


Summer's out of reach

by J_Anthony



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of abuse, No Beta We Die Like Man Shaped Beings, Oral Sex, Pining, Sharing one braincel, Slow Burn, Smut, Work In Progress, holiday in france, mention of past drug use, past drug abuse, they were kids once, they're just idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Anthony/pseuds/J_Anthony
Summary: “Wasn’t that yours?”The blonde boy looked at the other boy that was talking to him. He didn’t seemed to be surprised, more like he was caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to do. He leaned against the stone wall that separated the beach resort from the beach itself, his bare feet on the warm sand.Anthony was pretty sure that the plastic sword, that another kid was now playing with, belonged to the other boy. He was sure, as he watched him (and his siblings) play with it and when he asked his mum for a sword, she told him that he couldn’t have one. So he watched with envy how this blonde kid trailed behind his older siblings who had lost interest in him pretty fast.“I gave it away,” the blonde confessed with a guilty sigh.His eyes widened. “You what?” Anthony asked dumbfounded.- or -The Holiday in France human AU that nobody wanted
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 86
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Once a year, Aziraphale's family and Anthony Crowley's family go on a summer holiday to France. They start this tradition when they're 10 years old and keep coming back for two weeks every year. What could go wrong?

_Present Day_

Anthony Crowley sprawled out over the hotelbed and closed his eyes. The mattress felt so soft underneath him and he was pretty sure that he could sleep for at least the next decade right now. The flight from New York had been awfully long and he was sure that the kid that sat a few rows behind him was the literal antichrist. Thank someone, he had two whole weeks of peace and quiet to look forward to. Right now, he could really use a drink.

Instead of giving into the urge to fall asleep right there, he forced himself up from the bed and tried to smell his own shirt. His nose wrinkled and he opened his suitcase to rummage through the neatly folded clothes and find another shirt that didn’t smell like body odor and airplane. His auburn hair looked slightly disheveled, so he dragged a hand through it and decided that this was all the effort he could muster right now. 

Crowley entered the hotel bar just a little later. The hotel had changed a lot since he last visited, but the bar was still at the same place. A bit more modern, but he didn't mind that. He hadn't been at the resort since before he turned 18 and turned away from his parents. Their relationship had been very complicated and after the troubled last holiday he just stopped going. He absolutely didn't want to think of that right now anyway. Now that his parents both passed away earlier that year, he decided to visit one last time. He could also really use a break from Sandy, his long term girlfriend, so they decided to both go on separate holidays this year. It might've been a mistake to come back to this place and all its memories. Threatened to be cut off from his trust fund and written out of the family will, he had straightened out years ago and this was the place where his teenage rebellion had started. 

The redhead ordered a long Island iced tea because it seemed like the only thing they had were cocktails and the young French bartender just stared at him when he tried to explain that he just wanted one of the components alone in a glass. He tried not the scowl at the cocktail when it came with a colourful umbrella and discarded the paper straw. 

"Anthony, is that you?" a strangely familiar voice asked and made Crowley turn around. 

Before him stood a slightly tanned, slightly sunburned man, wearing cream coloured shorts and a pressed, light blue polo shirt. His midsection was slightly rounded and his face a little bit chubby. On top of his head, buried in blonde curls, sat a pair of sunglasses. His grey blue eyes looked expectantly at Crowley, but his hands were fidgeting nervously with the ring on his pinkie finger. He was the polar opposite of Crowley, who wore dark, tight trousers and a dark grey, wrinkled shirt (all his clothes were neatly packed by Sandy, but Crowley had the ability to make everything look wrinkled and creased within a few minutes of wearing it). He was lanky and all sharp angles. His sunglasses sat on his nose and he lounged loose limbed on the bar stool, while the other one had a near perfect posture when standing upright. 

Crowley knew who he was immediately and suddenly wished  _ very  _ hard that he never made the decision to come back here.

“Aziraphale!” he said and he hoped he sounded a bit cheerful and aloof at the same time, which was a hard thing to pull off. “Fancy seeing you here.”

The man, Aziraphale, seemed relieved that Crowley had recognized him. He clambered rather clumsily on the bar stool next to him without an invitation and ordered a glass of sparkling water. Crowley took a long swig of his cocktail. Aziraphale sat straight up next to him, his hands neatly folded in his lap. For a long, awkwardly silent moment he stared at his water while Crowley looked at him from the corners of his eyes, thankful that the sunglasses he wore hid his eyes from the world. Aziraphale sighted and looked up to Crowley, who tried to smirk casually and toyed a bit with the previously discarded umbrella. 

“Anthony, I-”

“It’s Crowley now,” he interrupted him before he could say anything else. 

“Crowley?” 

Crowley swallowed and nodded. He had gotten used to his last name and he actually never really  _ liked  _ his first name anyway. “You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, no, I didn’t say that. I’ll get used to it.”

He raised his eyebrow above his sunglasses. “You’ll get used to it?” he chuckled a tad bitter since they hadn’t spoken in twelve years and he couldn’t see the streak ending after this little chat anyway. 

Aziraphale’s face fell immediately. “We should talk. About that.”

They didn’t  _ need  _ to talk about it. Crowley absolutely didn’t  _ want  _ to talk about it, but Aziraphale looked up from his drink and Crowley tried to down his own drink at once. Aziraphale’s grey eyes seemed kind of desperate and Crowley always found it difficult to say no to the man. That hadn’t changed at all, apparently. While he mulled this over, his phone rang and he fished it out of the tight pocket of his trousers. 

“I’ve got to take this,” he said, glad for the distraction. “We’ll talk over dinner, yeah?” 

He slid of his bar stool while saying that and left quickly when Aziraphale only nodded to him. Crowley hadn’t even noticed what exactly he suggested until he already pushed the phone to his ear and pushed the doors to the hallway open.

“Tony, babe!” a shrill voice sounded in his ear and he groaned internally. “How was your flight?”

He hated it when Sandy called him Tony, but it really didn’t matter how many times he told her just that, she kept doing it and he just kinda gave up on it. 

“Flight was just great,” he answered rather distracted, realizing that he had to face Aziraphale for a dinner that would be very awkward in the least and would probably end very dramatically. To keep his mind from wandering  _ there _ he decided to ask about her flight to wherever it was she went and listen to her ranting about rude stewards and disgusting old people. 

* * *

_10 years old_

“Wasn’t that yours?” 

The blonde boy looked at the other boy that was talking to him. He didn’t seemed to be surprised, more like he was caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to do. He leaned against the stone wall that separated the beach resort from the beach itself, his bare feet on the warm sand. 

Anthony was pretty sure that the plastic sword, that another kid was now playing with, belonged to the other boy. He was sure, as he watched him (and his siblings) play with it and when he asked his mum for a sword, she told him that he couldn’t have one. So he watched with envy how this blonde kid trailed behind his older siblings who had lost interest in him pretty fast. 

“I gave it away,” the blonde confessed with a guilty sigh. 

His eyes widened. “You what?” Anthony asked dumbfounded.

“He didn’t seem to have any toys and he was looking at it the whole time. I don’t even really _like_ swords,” the boy exclaimed. “So I just said, ‘here you go, a sword, don’t thank me’ and gave it away.”

Anthony snorted. That was probably the nicest thing he had ever heard. Considering that he was only ten years old and tended to forget most things right after they happened, the nicest thing he had ever heard could be something else entirely tomorrow. He liked the other boy instantly because of it. 

“I’m Anthony, by the way,” he introduced himself with the confidence only a ten year old kid would have. 

“Aziraphale.”

“Assira-what?” Anthony drawled the ‘s’ sound because of the slight speech impediment he had. 

The boy groaned. “Aziraphale. My parents had the brilliant idea to name us after angels. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

The boys got interrupted by a teenager that Anthony recognized as one of Aziraphale’s siblings. He seemed to be the oldest of the bunch and had an air of smugness and overconfidence. The teenager glanced quickly over Anthony and turned to look at his younger brother. Aziraphale stared back with a look of adoration for his older brother. 

“Mum wants to know where your sword is.”

Anthony smirked, leaned back against the stone wall and crossed his arms in front of his body. Aziraphale squirmed a bit at this question and Anthony wondered if he would tell him the same story. 

“I’ve eh, put it down somewhere… I can- eh, can go and grab it,” he spluttered. 

Luckily for him, a young girl joined them and Aziraphale could stop his little act. His brother didn’t seem interested in his answer anyway. The girl seemed a little bit more cheerful and smiled lightly at the boys. She had a ponytail full of dark golden curls and had somewhat of a family resemblance to Aziraphale. 

“Who’s your friend, Aziraphale?” she asked while looking at Anthony. 

Aziraphale positively beamed at her. “Oh, this is Anthony! Anthony, this is my brother Gabriel and my sister Michael.”

“Alright, whatever. It’s lunch time, come on,” Gabriel drawled bored and walked away.

* * *

_11 years old_

Even after a year of not seeing each other, the two boys reconnected like they hadn’t been apart at all. They would eat ice cream together; Aziraphale could eat ungodly amounts of any flavour of ice cream. They build sandcastles; Aziraphale made greatly detailed little castles while Anthony made his as big as he could. Once he forgot that he dug a huge hole next to his castle, accidentally tripped because of it and cashed face first in both castles, Aziraphale decided that it had been the last time he made sandcastles with Anthony. In the afternoons they would scour the beach for seashells and only collected the most magnificent ones (Anthony took them home each year and had quite the collection). 

“Oh c’mon angel, it’ll be fun!” Anthony said while stalking around Aziraphale, who sat in the shade on one of the lounge chairs they managed to snatch up while reading a book. 

Anthony had taken up on calling Aziraphale ‘angel’ somewhere in the first week they met. His real name was long and it always seemed to trigger his speech impediment, something that made him awfully self conscious. He was named after an angel so it seemed fitting and Aziraphale hadn’t protested anyway. 

“But it’s dangerous!” Aziraphale countered while sneaking a look to the left, where his parents were. 

Anthony knew that Aziraphale just needed a little persuasion. In the end, he always agreed to do what Anthony wanted to do with glee. He just needed some plausible deniability so he could tell his parents that it wasn’t his fault when they got caught or when things went pear-shaped. 

“S’not dangerous at all. I know exactly how to drive one of those!” 

The blonde boy pursed his lips, but put his book down and followed Anthony around the resort. Earlier that day they had discovered an old soapbox car, made out of wood that was painted a bright red. They had inspected the little car but had to leave for lunch without trying it out. The wheels were still working and mostly round. Ever since that moment, Anthony had been nagging because he wanted to try it out, but not on his own. 

They found a nice artificially created hill and pushed the old car to the top. It was pretty heavy and they were both out of breath. Anthony ushered Aziraphale in the back, while he squeezed himself in front of him, his hands on the metal steering wheel. They pushed themselves over the edge of the hill and the car started to roll down slowly, at first, but picked up speed faster than they expected. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Anthony’s waist and screeched loud in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few more flashbacks for your pleasure

_12 years old_

Anthony had really started to look forward to the summer holidays. He and Aziraphale exchanged some postcards throughout the rest of the year and made sure that their parents kept their promise to align their stay in France at the same resort. Anthony’s parents were especially glad that he made a friend, since he seemed to have difficulties making and keeping friends back home. Aziraphale’s parents knew that their son liked his alone time, but he got along with his siblings just fine and they spend a lot of time together. They weren’t particularly fond of Anthony and his parents (for a multitude of reasons, a few of them being that they were not religious, Anthony’s father was a very well known politician and they let their kid run wild in the resort), but they were set in their ways of spending two weeks a year in France anyway so they allowed it. 

This year, Anthony managed to pack two enormous Super Soakers and his parents weren’t very pleased to find out that he dumped most of his clothes out of his suitcase so that he could fit the huge water pistols inside. Aziraphale eyed them curiously, but also cautiously, when Anthony brought them over to the pool. The ginger boy seemed to be very proud of his accomplishment when he told Aziraphale all about how he snuck them inside his suitcase and of course they had to play with them as much as they could. 

Aziraphale squeaked the first time that the cold water hit him and Anthony was sensible enough to run away right away, but not without laughing loudly. Aziraphale followed him, but lost sight of him quite quickly. He usually preferred not to engage in psychical activity, even though Anthony forced him to do so most of the time, and it showed. His friend could run a lot faster and longer on those lanky legs of his. Anthony did a lot of sports, but only sports he could do on his own. His parents made him join all kinds of clubs just so he could get rid of his nervous energy, but he wasn't a good team player at all. 

With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Anthony ran around a big planter with a small palm tree, ready to strike. “Gotcha again!” he called out while squirting his victim with cold water. 

But it wasn’t Aziraphale who stood there. It was his oldest brother Gabriel, his face turned sour. Anthony made a face, he knew that Gabriel didn’t like him very much and the feeling was mutual. Aziraphale adored his older brother, so he always tried to be nice anyway, even when the teenager totally ignored him or looked at him disapprovingly. 

“Oh ssshit, I’m so sssorry!” Anthony lied. 

Luckily he spotted Aziraphale hiding somewhere by the pool, so he just ran off with his Super Soaker and left a wet Gabriel behind.

* * *

_13 years old_

Aziraphale and Anthony considered themselves to be real teenagers now. Anthony liked to bask in the sun for some time while Aziraphale read a book in the shade, interrupted by going from the biggest slide there was eight times in a row. They were now old enough to play table tennis without supervision (the one thing that Aziraphale is actually pretty good at) and they still ate ice cream whenever they could. 

Usually it was Anthony who came up with ideas for them to do and convince Aziraphale that it would be fun, but not this time. Aziraphale wanted to see some play that the animation team of the hotel would perform that afternoon and Anthony wasn’t the kind of teenager that had the concentration to watch an entire play. 

“Shakespeare?” Anthony whined when they walked into the small amphitheater that was right next to the hotel. 

The theater was almost empty, except for some of the employees from the hotel’s animation team on stage and a few people who were also watching. Anthony threw his head back and groaned dramatically, they had to read some of Shakespeare in class and he found it to be absolutely dreadful. Aziraphale looked at Anthony fondly, not disturbed by his theatrics, and laughed while he looked at the stage. 

“It’s not one of the tragedies, Anthony. This one is funny!”

“You’re thirteen years old!” The other one exclaimed. “You’re not _supposed_ to go to old people plays.”

Aziraphale only huffed as response. His friend sighed and gave in because he really seemed to enjoy this. That didn’t mean that Anthony would stay still and watch. He was shuffling about, walking around Aziraphale and was talking a lot. It didn’t seem to bother him that much, he probably knew the whole play from the top of his head because he had no problems following it even after Anthony kept talking to him. Anthony had no idea what it was about. 

“You know my parents made me ride a horse a few months ago?” Anthony scoffed with a grimace at the memory of it. “They thought it would be a great way to spend my time. Petting ponies.”

“You liked it?”

“No. Bit hard on the buttocks.”

“We have horses,” Aziraphale mused. “I don’t think they like me very much.”

“Horses only like crazy horse girls. Or crazy horse people,” Anthony shrugged.

* * *

_14 years old_

When they came back the next year, Anthony had changed. He was growing his auburn hair out, against the wishes of his parents, and took to wearing his sunglasses as much as he could. Even inside. 

The teenager was just overcoming his speech impediment, it bothered him less and less and would only come out when he was flustered or emotional. The other kids at his school found something else to bully him with and that something else was his eye colour. Anthony would call it yellow, Aziraphale would say it was more golden. The correct name was amber, but a very light shade of it. It was a very uncommon eye colour and made Anthony wear his sunglasses as much as he could. When anyone would ask about it, he would claim light sensitivity. He liked it that people couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t comment on the colour and would only see their own reflection when they looked at him. 

Aziraphale had not once made a comment about his eyes. He probably noticed, but just accepted it and moved on. Now he would wear the sunglasses even in his presence. He would again not comment and just accepted it as a new thing. 

He was wearing them when they stood atop of a small cliff above the ocean. Waves crashing softly against the rocks beneath them and Anthony glanced down. He wasn’t particularly afraid of heights or the sea, but the idea of jumping off the cliff scared him somewhat. He didn’t want Aziraphale to notice. 

“C’mon angel,” he tried to convince the other boy, but also himself. 

“It won’t be dangerous?” Aziraphale guessed what Anthony was going to say next, and swallowed. 

“Yeah! Just. Fun. Y’know.”

He sounded a bit unsure and wished that he could swallow the words back into his mouth. But he already got this far, he already coaxed Aziraphale in joining him here and tried to get him to join him in jumping off, so he had to take the leap, quite literally, but he might back off if Aziraphale wouldn’t agree to jump with him. 

“Fine,” Aziraphale blurted out. “Let’s get on with it.”

Anthony’s last reason to not jump went out of the window. Aziraphale smiled nervously at him and grabbed his hand. Anthony stared at their hands for a second and didn’t know if he should pull his hand back or should let it happen. His father was quite clear, boys weren’t supposed to hold hands under any circumstances. He let it happen anyway, because he felt a little more secure and he was pretty sure that Aziraphale only grabbed it because of his nerves. He gave his hand a little squeeze to ease his nerves, counted to three and they jumped together.

*

That evening was the second time they were allowed to have dinner together. Not that it meant _alone,_ because Aziraphale’s family sat two tables away and Anthony’s parents on the other side of the restaurant. The blonde teenager seemed to be a bit nervous. He seemed distracted and was fidgeting with the hems of his shirt. 

“Spill it,” Anthony said.

“Spill… what?” 

“Whatever is bothering you.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Do you have a girlfriend?” he asked. 

“No! Girls are gross,” the other boy answered right away and he meant it. He wasn’t interested in girls yet, but he knew he probably would be soon, like the boys in his class were. “Why?” He eyed Aziraphale suspiciously. 

“Oh, no reason. Just- just curious.” 

He knew Aziraphale wasn’t telling the truth, the boy was such a terrible liar that he could always tell right away. He decided not to ask _why_ again, but it was only fair to return the question, right? 

“What about you?”

“Do I. Have a girlfriend?” Aziraphale repeated. 

“Yeah. Do you?”

“No. No, that’s not how it works in our family,” Aziraphale smiled, still nervous. “We’re not allowed to date until we finish school. And after that we’re supposed to get married and all that.” He sounded almost rueful. 

“So you wanted to live vicariously through my dating life?” Anthony smirked. 

“Something like that.”

* * *

_15 years old_

Anthony went on a late night run because he had to take his mind off things and couldn’t sleep. He could feel the nervous energy pulsing through him, his therapist said it was anxiety, but what the bloody hell did she know about it. Running helped, it tired him out and sometimes he went on until the only thing he could focus on was the burning of his lungs and the pain in his legs. He would regret it in the morning, but for now he just wanted to be able to sleep and think about something else. 

They were one week into their summer holiday and Anthony had the idea that his world shifted. He could feel it in the weeks leading up to the summer and it only got stronger since they got here. He had blamed the nerves, because that’s what it always had been. He just had a bad case of sweaty palms and a heart that tried to thump out of his chest every now and then. He could ignore that, maybe outrun it. If he just knew why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable, but also so comfortable at the same time, when he and Aziraphale met for yet another two weeks of summer holiday. 

During his run, he came across a place he hadn’t been before. There was a nice clearing, it was quiet but he could hear the sound of water. He quickly found that there was a small stream nearby that ended here in a lovely pond. The place would probably even more quaint by daylight and he knew that Aziraphale would love it. It was a long walk away from their resort and he also knew that Aziraphale would hate that. 

*

“I promise you that you’ll love it!” Anthony tried to convince his friend once again to do something. “S’not even that far.”

Aziraphale huffed as a response, but agreed anyway. After a change in shoes, they set out to find the spot that Anthony was so excited about. He also carried a backpack with him and wouldn’t tell Aziraphale what was in it. After leaving the resort, he already wanted to argue about ‘not even that far’ because he felt like they already passed ‘that far’ after five minutes of walking. He made a point of huffing and puffing throughout the entire walk just to show Anthony how much he didn’t like it. Anthony just had a sly smile on his face the entire time and teased him lightly. 

It did take them some time, but eventually Anthony stepped into the clearing backwards, his eyes on Aziraphale, his back to the clearing and hands in the air with a small ‘tada’. He wanted to see how his eyes got bigger with delight and how the corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

“So, was I right?” Anthony asked, just because he wanted to hear it.

Aziraphale looked a bit unsure. “Well, I _like_ it. But what are we supposed to do here?” 

It wasn’t exactly the response that Anthony wanted, but he already anticipated that he wouldn’t be as happy because of the walk here. So he grinned his sly smile once again, walked around the clearing without saying a word while Aziraphale watched him. He suddenly stopped somewhere close to the pond and dropped the backpack on the ground. He pulled out a large beach towel and beckoned Aziraphale closer.

“C’mon then. I promised you that you’ll love it.”

He hesitated for a moment, but walked over and lowered himself to sit on the red beach towel anyway. Anthony started pulling more things out of the backpack, a brown paper bag, Tupperware with something red inside and a bottle of water. It took Aziraphale a few seconds before he realized what this was and he beamed at Anthony. 

“A picnic?” he asked delighted. “You packed that for me?”

As a response, Anthony waved vaguely with his hands. “Knew you wouldn’t _love_ it without food.”

He was right, it looked more quaint by daylight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it finally is! Sorry for the delay, the holidays are an extremely busy time for me. Hope you'll enjoy it and happy new year!
> 
> Also a big thank you to The_jackalope for helping me out with this chapter and my dear SheHim from my favorite Discord channel. You're the best!

_16 years old_

As both boys finished year 11 at school and passed their GCSEs, they found that they had a little more freedom than they had before. Anthony had always had more freedom than Aziraphale, as long as he stayed around the resort and checked in every now or then, his parents were content. They didn’t really care that much. Aziraphale’s family, on the other, would request his presence a lot. They would have all their meals together, they would go on outings, play games with his siblings and always had to tell them what he was doing and where he was going. Anthony found them rather odd, as they would get up _early_ every morning and read passages from the Bible with the whole family. Afterwards, their father would tell them what the story meant and they would discuss it. Aziraphale had asked Anthony to join once, a few years ago, but he didn’t like it and never joined them again. 

His sisters, Michael and Sariel, invited them along on a boat trip. Anthony liked them better than the rest of his siblings, especially Gabriel and Uriel. His sisters had invited some of their friends, who were a few years older than they were and not really interested in two sixteen year old boys. They were just doing whatever they wanted, Aziraphale sat on the edge of the boat with his feet dangling down while Anthony swam in the water and climbed back on board every now and then to jump off again.

“D'you think there are dolphins here?” Anthony asked while he peered up to Aziraphale through his sunglasses. 

“Probably. It’s warm enough here.”

“What about whales?” He looked at the vast amount of water underneath him. “You think they’ll fit here?”

“A sperm whale at most. Did you know they have the biggest brains out of all the whales?”

Anthony snorted and his friend raised his eyebrows at him. “Sperm whale," Anthony wheezed. 

The corners of Aziraphale's mouth twitched upwards and his bright eyes twinkled. He would never find this as funny on his own, but Anthony's laugh was infectious. 

*

The next day, they were back at the spot they dubbed ‘their spot’ because they hadn’t seen anyone else there yet and they liked it. They had lunch there and Anthony was laying down on his back and stared at the blue sky and the leaves of the trees above them. Aziraphale was sitting upright and looked at Anthony. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked. 

Aziraphale always asked that when they both were quiet for a longer period of time. Anthony could never sit still for a long time, or keep his mouth closed for that matter, so he always wanted to know what his friend was thinking about. 

“I don’t really want to do my A-levels next year,” Anthony answered and Aziraphale was silent. “Well, I don’t mind school, but my dad wants me to take certain subjects for uni that I don’t want to.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m not _smart_ like you. You’re definitely going to uni and do some good things or whatever. My dad just wants me to go so he looks good for it. Doing law or business or something.”

“What do you want to do?” Aziraphale asked. 

Anthony shrugged. “Dunno, honestly. What about you?”

“I _like_ school,” he admitted. He stopped looking at Anthony when he rolled over on his belly and planted his elbows in the grass. His face cupped in his hands. Instead he looked at his fists that gripped the grass next to him. “My parents also have expectations, y’know.”

“Yeah, probably religion studies or something,” Anthony smirked. “But you’ll like it anyway.”

“Probably,” Aziraphale mused. 

“I’ll tell you what. Whatever happens, let’s come back at this spot every year on the last day of our 2 weeks. A tradition.”

“Deal. A tradition,” he repeated with a smile. 

The smile made his heart flutter and he never felt anything like that before. It made him roll onto his back once again to gaze up instead of looking at Aziraphale. He didn’t like the feeling at all.

This was also the first time that his friend noticed that the bruises that peeked from just underneath the sleeve of his shirt were fingertip shaped. He had noticed the fair share of bruises Anthony had over the years, but always assumed it was because of the boys active nature. He decided not to say anything about it, because he could be very wrong. 

*

Anthony decided to make their new tradition a little bit special. He nicked a bottle of rosé from a cart in the hallway by his room when nobody looked and hid it in his backpack. Right after dinner, the two teenagers found their way to their spot and sat down on the towels they brought. 

“I brought us something special,” Anthony said and he wiggled his eyebrows above his dark sunglasses. 

He was excited about it. He drank alcohol before by breaking into his parents liquor cabinet and getting drunk with some friends. He knew his friends liked that about him, but wasn’t too sure if Aziraphale would also like it. He was very different from his friends back home. Since wearing his sunglasses, growing out his hair and adapting a ‘cool and aloof’ persona, he became friends with a few boys at school that used to bully him. Aziraphale was very different, Anthony didn’t have to watch what he was saying or voicing his opinion around him, afraid that the boy would think less of him. He was also pretty sure that he never had alcohol in his life and wanted to know what he was like when he was a bit tipsy. 

He tucked his auburn hair, that now reached his jaw, behind his ears and opened his backpack. With a grin he pulled out the glass bottle and held it up for Aziraphale to see. The light of the setting sun hit it to light up the liquid inside. Aziraphale’s eyes grew big and he looked a bit shocked. 

“Wine? Anthony, we can’t!” 

“‘Course we can, angel.” 

With the tip of his tongue peeking out of his lips, he unscrewed the cap and took a swig from the bottle, he hadn’t thought of glasses. The pink liquid was sweet and tasted like summer fruits. He passed the bottle to Aziraphale, who took it hesitantly. He stared at the bottle as if it would start to speak and deliver him the answer itself. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Anthony said softly, he didn’t want to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. “I won’t mind.”

Instead of passing the bottle back to him, the boy inhaled deeply, exhaled again, and took a swig of the bottle. “Oh,” he let out surprised. “It’s sweeter than I expected, I thought it would be bitter if you hear how the adults talk about it…”

Anthony grinned. “You have some strange adults in your life, man.”

He shrugged, took another sip and passed the bottle back. They alternated the bottle between them and watched the sun set further, the stars above them afterwards. Anthony felt the alcohol buzzing through his system and he knew that Aziraphale also felt it, since he acted more giddy than usual. His blonde curls were mussed because he kept touching them and his cheeks were pink. 

“Vagina whales!” Anthony cried out in the middle of a discussion whether penguins were birds or mammals. 

“What?” He seemed utterly lost. 

“If sperm whales exist, why not vagina whales. Dick whales, tit whale, saliva whale,” he wheezed, thinking he was so clever and funny. 

At first, Aziraphale looked rather disturbed, but started laughing and swatted at his arm. “Stop it!” 

“Pee whales,” he grinned. 

Aziraphale pushed him over and kept swatting at him. “You devious thing!” he laughed. 

The moonlight caught his blonde hair and made it look like a halo around his face. Anthony stared at him for a moment, he never realized how positively angelic his friend looked. Aziraphale seemed to notice his staring, his face turned a darker shade of pink and he scooted a few inches away from Anthony. Anthony cleared his throat awkwardly and Aziraphale mussed his curls even further. 

“Butt whales.”

This resulted in another fit of laughter from the both of them that cleared the awkwardness right away. After a while they decide to go back to the resort, they have no idea how long they’ve been away and actually don’t care that much. Since it was already dark, they fumbled through the bushes. Anthony found out that the other didn’t have the greatest balance while tipsy, he kept grabbing onto his arms for support. Anthony winced while he grabbed his upper arm a bit rough and grabbed his hand to steady him instead. While very pointedly looking in front of him, Aziraphale laced their fingers together to escape the bushes unharmed. They both didn’t pull back when they reached the path that led back to the resort, but also pretended that they weren’t holding hands. He could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest.

They walked passed the pool and Anthony saw a familiar outline there. It was unmistakingly his father and he didn’t seem to be in a good mood. It took him a few moments before he ripped his hand free without looking at Aziraphale, stuffed both of his hands in the front pockets of his shorts and walked over to his father. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” 

He was grabbed roughly by his shoulders and looked up into eyes that were blazing with fire. His dad didn’t wait for an answer, instead grabbing him by his wrist and dragging him away from Aziraphale. He didn’t even gave the boys change to say goodbye. While being dragged by his father, they passed Gabriel who gave him a smug smirk. Anthony glared back at him. 

“Please tell me you weren’t holding his hand? You can’t do that to us,” his father was hissing at him while they walked back to their room. He already knew that this night was far from over for him. 

* * *

_17 year old_

Anthony wasn’t a morning person. He had never been a morning person and never would be a morning person. He preferred to sleep through mornings. They arrived late last night at the resort, but he wasn’t able to sleep at all. He felt like the nervous energy just radiated off of him in waves and had been tossing and turning in bed until he couldn’t take it anymore and went for one of his runs. Those runs had increased greatly in the past year, until he discovered weed. That seemed to take the edge off his anxiety and nerves better than anything else, but he didn’t have any access to that kind of thing here in France. A Queen song was blaring through his headphones while he walked back.

_Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this? /_ _Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?_

Someone tapped on his shoulder, he turned around and met two bright blue eyes. 

_Out of the doorway the bullets rip /_ _To the sound of the beat_

He fumbled with his headphones, the loud music fading when he pulled them back. He could hear the lyrics and the loud bass faintly from where the headphones settled around his neck. His lips twitched into an unwilling smile and he felt oddly exposed without his sunglasses. 

“You’re here!” Aziraphale beamed at him. 

“Yeah, we arrived last night,” Anthony grinned and wanted to run a hand through his hair, that reached his shoulders now, but realized that he tied it up in a half bun to keep it out of his face while running. 

Behind them, someone made a coughing sound, the one that is definitely on purpose to remind others of their presence. A glance over Aziraphale’s shoulder showed his older brother Gabriel. Aziraphale’s face fell immediately and he stepped back. Anthony glared at him for a moment before looking back at his friend. 

“I’m gonna, er, take shower, see you at breakfast?” 

Aziraphale looked over his shoulder to his brother, who had a stern and impatient look on his face. “Perhaps.” With those words he turned and left. 

_How do you think I'm going to get along /_ _Without you when you're gone?_

Anthony stared at them with a dumbfounded look on his face, he felt something inside him twitch.

*

“Shush!” Aziraphale nudged him with his elbow. 

They sat in a dark room on the slightly uncomfortable red chairs of the planetarium. Above them, a video showed a slowly rotating image of the universe projected against a round screen on the ceiling. A woman spoke in French and Aziraphale listened intently. Anthony didn’t speak any French at all, but still stopped his nervous babbling so they could listen. He was still intrigued, just the images of the universe, the stars and the planets. He went to one in Brighton with school and liked it so much that when he heard the resort had a raft battle in the pool and you could win tickets for the planetarium, he had pestered Aziraphale until he gave in to join him. 

They hadn’t spend a lot of time together, Aziraphale was off doing things a lot or would just prefer to lounge with a book at the pool. Anthony’s parents dropped them off at the planetarium and he was glad that their families were not around. He had a feeling that his family was part of the reason why they weren’t spending as much time together as before. He vaguely remembered the conversation he had with his parents on the last night of last years holiday and how they warned him not to cross certains lines. Anthony was very good at ignoring and avoiding his parents and that’s what he did the rest of the year. 

Anthony slouched in the red chair and placed his hand on the armrest between them. He kept glancing over to the boy next to him, but he seemed to be way too engrossed in the show. He wiggled his fingers, nothing happened. Right now he was pretty sure that he totally misjudged their hand holding last time. His heart skipped a beat when Aziraphale shifted his arm and moved it next to his. Now both of their arms were located on the armrest, pressed against each other. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he looked at it, their hands so close together. Aziraphale still gazed up to the screen and seemed to pretend once again that nothing was going on. 

The lights turned back on and the show was over. Aziraphale suddenly snatched his arm back and Anthony pushed the sunglasses from his hair back over his eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly and was pretty sure that he just wanted to use the armrest that Anthony was hogging and it didn’t mean what he wanted it to mean. 

Aziraphale glanced on his watch. “You’re parents are gonna be here soon, shall we go to the exit?”

“Er. Yeah. Let’s go.”

They walked slowly towards the exit, Anthony with his hands stuffed in his pockets and Aziraphale translating some things that voice over had said during the show. They passed a little café that was part of the planetarium and Anthony treated Aziraphale on an éclair, while getting himself a bottle of soda. 

“My treat,” he said when he paid before Aziraphale could.

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale beamed a smile that was still as bright as when he was a ten year old. “Thank you. Also for asking me to go with you. I’ve never been before.”

Anthony waved it away with his hands and they went outside to sit on a bench where they waited for his parents to show up. He stretched his long legs and Aziraphale sat straight up while he ate his éclair. 

* 

Anthony blew a hot breath over Aziraphale’s ear and through his blonde curls. It startled the other boy, who let out a high pitched sound and looked up from his book. Anthony saw him sitting on a couch at the dimly lit lobby when he returned from his late night run and couldn’t help himself. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he sighted. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Aziraphale smiled feeble. “Couldn’t sleep. I like to read when I can’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake anyone up. What about you? Where did you come from?”

Anthony smirked, he was dressed in his running shorts and wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. With a bit of practiced drama he flopped next to Aziraphale on the couch, who closed his book with a marker in between the pages. 

“I went on a run.”

“I never met someone who likes to run around as much as I like to sit down and read.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” he grinned. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing special.” He placed his hand protectively over the cover of the book and moved it away from Anthony. “Just some novel, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Lemme see that.” While talking, Anthony quickly reached for the book and slipped it from Aziraphale’s grabbing fingers. He moved out of his reach on purpose. “Pride and Prejudice?” He opened the book on the first page and read the first sentence. “ _It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife._ ” 

“Anthony, give it back,” Aziraphale groaned with red cheeks. 

Anthony wrinkled his nose. “A _wife_? You should try dating first, angel.”

Aziraphale huffed and tried to reach the book, pushing his body against him and stretching out his arms, but still couldn’t reach it. Anthony laughed and waved the book teasingly, his arms were just a tad bit longer than Aziraphale’s. He leaned over the armrest to keep it even further out of reach and Aziraphale lifted himself slightly from the couch. Before they knew it, Anthony lost his balance, grabbed Aziraphale with a fist in his shirt and they both tumbled over the armrest. The book thumped on the floor and slid away from them. 

There was a silence that was only disturbed by the ragged and surprised breathing of the two boys. Anthony had managed to land on top of Aziraphale, their faces mere inches away from each other. Aziraphale stared at him with his eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted. Without thinking, Anthony leaned in and pressed his lips against them. A second passed before Aziraphale leaned slightly into the kiss before he broke it off. Panic seized Anthony, he pulled back and scrambled to his feet.

“I’m ssso sorry, I didn’t mean -” 

The hiss slipped through and he wished he had his sunglasses to cover his eyes right now. He looked everywhere but Aziraphale, who sat up feeling stunned. He felt like such an idiot for kissing his best friend. Before he could make a bigger fool out of himself, he turned around and almost ran into the stairwell. 

* 

Anthony was pacing nervously through the clearing. He didn’t know if Aziraphale would show up. It was their last day in France once again and they made a deal. He screwed up so badly last night that he didn’t know if he still wanted to come. He had shoved a note under the door of his family’s suite, but he knew that if Gabriel intercepted it, he would never give it to his brother. He checked his watch, he had to go back in an hour to catch their flight. 

When he heard something rustling, he tried to act like he wasn’t nervous at all. Aziraphale did seem nervous, he looked over his shoulder while walking towards Anthony, who took a few slow steps in his general direction.

“Anthony,” he greeted while he played with the ring on his pinky finger. 

“Aziraphale, you came.”

Aziraphale smiled wryly, a warm summer breeze blew gently through his curls. The world seemed rustled around them, thick with anticipation. Anthony swallowed, his heart beating loudly and he was sure that the other boy could hear him. 

“I’m so sorry that I left last night,” he apologized because he suddenly couldn’t remember what he wanted to say. He stepped forward and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand with his two hands. Aziraphale didn’t pull his hand back, but looked very pained. “Please tell me you-”

“We can’t, Anthony,” he fretted, withdrawing his hand. “You know we can’t.”

Anthony walked away, only to turn back after a few steps. “Why would we care? We could go off together!” He said it in an impulse, didn’t mean to say it, but he wanted to. Away from their parents and everyone who disapproved, creating their own side, their own lives.

“Go off together?” Aziraphale repeated him incredulous. “Listen to yourself.”

“How long have we’ve been friends, hm? 7 years!” 

“Friends? We would’ve never been friends if we met anywhere else. We don’t _go_ together, we’re too different. We have nothing whatsoever in common.” Now it was his turn to walk away and stop to turn and pace back to Anthony. “I’m not even _gay_ , Anthony. It’s over!” He sounded like he was choking up. 

Anthony opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “Right,” he eventually said, feeling like someone crushed all the air out of his lungs. “Well then….” He started to walk away again. “Have a nice flight!” He called over his shoulder, before disappearing between the trees and leaving Aziraphale behind while choking back tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back to the present day!

For most people, a ‘see you at dinner?’ wouldn’t have been nearly enough information. For Crowley and Aziraphale it was. They always met at 7pm at the doors of the restaurant in the hotel if they could convince their parents to let them have dinner together instead of with their families. It didn’t happen a lot, Aziraphale’s family was a lot stricter in having family dinner than Crowley’s ever was, but it happened at least once every year since they turned thirteen. 

Crowley was extremely nervous, the nerves only got worse while the few hours until dinner ticked away and he found himself pacing through his room. He had retreated back to his room after taking a walk at beach, but it very warm and he still hadn’t changed out of his dark trousers since arriving. Nerves were exactly his thing, anyway. He always tried to appear nonchalant, aloof even, but always felt filled to the brim with nerves. 

He opened his suitcase again and tried to decide if he should change. Should he? He closed it again and walked to the bathroom, checked his hair and tried to make something of it. Maybe just a bit of perfume and he would be ready for dinner. He didn’t want to overthink it or overdo it, but he did it and he was ten minutes late because of that. 

Aziraphale stood by the double doors to the restaurant, his lips slightly pursed with a familiar look of annoyance. He had changed his shorts for trousers in the same colour and wore brown, shiny loafers instead of flip-flops. Still the same non-existent fashion sense as the last time they met. It still made his heart flutter. Crowley avoided looking at him when approached the man. 

“Sorry if I kept you waiting, traffic was awful,” he said jokingly. 

Aziraphale gave him an uncomfortable smile. “Doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

Crowley didn’t really want to go, but he followed Aziraphale into the restaurant. He also didn’t want to talk. Well, he could talk, he could be witty, snarky, sarcastic, smooth and charming, even concerned, as long as it had nothing to do with his own emotions. Whenever he attempted to talk about things that go deeper than the surface, he shuts down. His brain had a short-circuits and his tongue forgot how to form words. It was like his jaw was stuck in place and he had to pry it open so he could stammer out some half-formed words that wouldn’t make any sense anyway. He knew this was going to be a disaster. He couldn’t say what he wanted and he would end up making jokes or something. 

Aziraphale was always the one with words. Eloquent and articulate. Right now, there’s a heavy silence as neither of them spoke while they were seated at a table and didn’t know how to break it. Crowley bounced his knee, drummed with his fingers on the edge of the table and readjusted his sunglasses, even though they were still sitting perfectly straight on his nose. 

“Still with the glasses, then?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Obviously,” Crowley groaned. 

They were both relieved when a waiter stopped by to take their drink orders. Crowley ordered a top shelf whiskey and was glad that they understood this time. Aziraphale ordered some wine and that made Crowley smirk when the waiter was gone. 

“I thought your parents weren’t very big on wine, were they?” 

Aziraphale huffed in response. “Speaking about parents, how are -” He tried to change the topic, but only realized halfway through his sentence what he was asking. His eyes grew big. “I'm so sorry, I forgot -”

“S’ fine,” Crowley interrupted him with a wave of his hand and he slumped a bit in his chair. 

He knew that everyone knew that his parents had passed away. His dad retired a few years ago, but politicians never really leave the spotlight after all, especially since his dad kept injecting himself into the public eye. He absolutely hated that, because it also meant that he never got to leave the spotlight and exactly the reason why his parents felt like they had to control him when his life spiralled out of control. 

Even now, months after his dad passed away, a year after his mum, they were still controlling him, holding the threat of losing everything if he slipped up. If he lost his trust fund, he would automatically lose his right to his parents estate, they made sure of that, and everything after that would collapse. He was pretty sure that Sandy would leave him, if not because he lost all his money, it would be because he was a failure, and with that his life in New York would come to an end pretty quickly. 

“My deepest condolences to you,” Aziraphale still offered sincerely. “Might that be the reason why you’re here?”

“Yeah, m’here for some rest before I go back to England and sort out their affairs. Apparently my presence is required.” This time it was Crowley that changed the subject, while also keeping it away from the thing Aziraphale wanted to talk about in the first place. “What about you? What’re you up to?”

“Oh, I’m working as curator in the British Museum,” Aziraphale answered proudly. 

“You moved to London?” he asked astounded. 

“Yes, I moved into a flat above a second-hand bookshop in Soho,” Aziraphale answered with a content wiggle. “It’s quite idyllic if I may say so.”

“A flat in Soho?” Crowley repeated, even more astounded than before. He remembered when he Googled Aziraphale’s family a few years ago and found the huge Fell-estate just outside of Windsor. He couldn’t imagine Aziraphale moving into a flat, but he also wouldn’t call living above a second-hand bookshop in Soho ‘idyllic’. "That bookshop must've been turning a record profit ever since you moved in."

Aziraphale huffed. "I have _standards_ , Anthony -" 

"Crowley." 

" _Crowley_. I don't just go around and buy all the books I see and…" He seemed to realize that Crowley was just teasing him. 

Luckily for him, they were interrupted by the waiter bringing them their drinks and taking their order. Crowley already knew that he was going to nurse this one whiskey for the rest of their meal because he couldn't risk getting drunk or worse, someone noticing him getting drunk. 

"What about you?" Aziraphale broke the silence. 

"Moved to New York city a few years ago and became a security consultant. Awfully boring, I'm afraid. Just writing protocols all day."

"New York? Why all the way there?" 

"You know, just keeping a low profile," Crowley kept it vague, counting on the fact that Aziraphale didn't read the Sun or the last pages of newspapers that always revealed too much of people's private lives. He never understood why people were interested in the lives of kids of famous or important people. 

He remembered the time when he decided to leave rehab after a week, got even more strung out than usual and got caught in a very compromising position with a musician that was at least a decade his senior. That was probably his lowest point ever and also the point where his parents had enough since the entire thing had been laid out in some magazine. They gave him an ultimatum to go back to rehab and stay clean, or to lose his trust fund and get written out of their will. Crowley decided to pack up his stuff and go to rehab in the States, where people also didn't care about the adult kid of some British politician. 

"Oh, I see," Aziraphale answered and when Crowley looked up from his drink, he saw that the man was looking anywhere but at him. It was obvious that he did know something in the very least.

Crowley didn’t want to talk about it, because it would lead back to the last time they saw each other and the fight they had. The _thing_ Aziraphale wanted to talk about. The point where Crowley started to spirale out of control. The foundations for this were laid long ago, with every rejection, the time he had spend alone, the _no_ ’s and the _do what you’re told_. Between the rough hands and the tears cried afterwards. It all came to a head when the boy he loved told him he couldn’t love him back. The very last time he went to France, because he couldn’t come back afterwards. A story as old as time, a story that was not over yet and he hated it. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Crowley didn’t even try, he knew the words would spill from his lips and go on without him agreeing to any of them. He always had a tendency for babbling while nervous. The awkward silence lasted a bit longer. Someone else broke it, their food was put in front of them. Aziraphale smiled and changed the subject. 

They ordered dessert, Aziraphale had another glass of wine and Crowley switched to water. When their final order came, Crowley planted his elbow on the table and put his head in his hand while he watched the other man enjoy a creme caramel. He only took one bite of his own lemon tart, he wasn’t a big fan of desserts anyway. When Aziraphale finished, he eyed the leftover tart, but didn’t ask anything. He didn’t have to, Crowley pushed to plate towards him without saying anything. Aziraphale beamed a smile at him that made his inside go all tingly and he looked away.

“Anthony Crowley.”

The name was spoken with disgust. He recognized the voice and it clicked when he looked up to a tall man dressed neatly in grey slacks. His body tensed up for a second, but he willed it to relax and leaned with his arm over the back over his chair. Sprawling out even further, like he only ever got a vague suggestion how chairs worked. 

“Gabriel Fell,” he drawled. “Should’ve known that you’d show up.”

Gabriel folded his arms in front of his chest. “Thought _you_ were smart enough to stay away.”

“Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Crowley rolled unseen with his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his body language made up for that. “I’m just catching up with an old friend.”

Crowley had no interest in staying here in the company of Aziraphale’s older brother. The two never liked each other and that wasn’t likely to ever change. Since they were basically done eating anyway, he got up, dragging his chair slowly over the floor with a loud, obnoxious sound while he was at it. If he would stand upright, he would probably be just as tall as Gabriel, but Crowley always slouched a bit and his hips had the tendency to angle themselves either way. He turned to walk away with his usual laid-back swagger, but stopped and looked over his shoulder to Aziraphale with a smirk. 

“See you around, _angel_.” It was an endearment he hadn’t said in a very long time and right now he just said it to annoy Gabriel.

* * *

Crowley slept in until noon the next day. Jetlag always seemed to hit him hard and this time was no exception. He threw on some dark shorts and a dark red shirt before shuffling towards the lunch buffet. He could use some eggs right now, but settled for a croissant, brie and a black coffee to nurse him back to a state that resembled ‘awake’ in some way. He was sitting on the balcony where he could overlook the pool and the beach beyond the resort. 

He had brought some (slightly oversized) swimwear with him just in case, but he usually felt way too self conscious without clothes on. He always felt oddly exposed and vulnerable, but he also didn’t really like his lanky figure. He was too thin for his own liking and besides that, he sported quite a few scars he preferred to hide and that ugly tattoo he got when he was nineteen. So he just kept his shorts and shirt on and found other things to occupy his time here with. 

From up here he spotted a familiar head of blonde curls sitting at the pool. He could see multiple members of the Fell family down there, even though he didn’t really recognize anyone besides Aziraphale and Gabriel, he could make an educated guess. A young boy walked up to Aziraphale, his hair just slightly less curly and a darker blonde colour and _definitely_ a Fell. Crowley wondered if he was his son and felt a pang in his chest. Was Aziraphale married after all? He absolutely should be married and have kids, he deserved it, but he didn’t mention them last night at all. 

Crowley decided to focus himself on his coffee and stop by the beach later. It would be better if he just ignored the pool. Besides, he shouldn’t be interested in Aziraphale’s life. They both had their own lives now and they weren’t friends anymore. Last night had reminded him of their past friendship and Crowley wouldn’t really _mind_ if they would become friends again, but it would be awkward anyway. So, best to stay away. He was just glad that they avoided to talk about the _thing_ and didn’t want to risk another opportunity for Aziraphale to bring it up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 3 am while drinking a few too many energy drinks. There might be a few mistakes and I would be forever thankful if you can point them out for me!

Because Crowley landed only yesterday, his brain wasn’t caught up with the different timezone yet. Since he was now a (somewhat) sensible adult, he decided to go to the gym inside the resort to run for a bit, instead of going outside and potentially get lost. That had happened more times than he was willing to admit, everything looked so different in the dark, who could blame him? It also meant that he could just stop whenever he wanted instead of also having to get back to his starting point. 

Around 1 am he intended to get back to his room and take a nice, hot shower. Instead he passed by the lobby and decided he had to make a pit stop. Just a small one, he promised himself. He leaned against the wall while watching Aziraphale standing in front of a large bookshelf, his hand raised to his face and a finger pressed to his lips. He seemed to be deep in thought while studying whatever books where on the shelf. The lobby was dimly lit at this time of night. The couch from the last time was replaced by several rather uncomfortable looking chairs. 

“Some things never change, eh?”

The sudden break of silence startled Aziraphale, who jerked his head towards Crowley and laid his hands, which fluttered to his chest, on his heart. “Oh, it’s you,” he breathed out unsteady and he gave Crowley a once over. “I don't suppose they do, no."

Crowley grinned and pushed himself away from the wall with his shoulder while crossing his arms in front of his chest. He just hoped he looked as cool and collected as he intended to be. He was very aware of the fact that he could make people feel uncomfortable when he acted like this and Aziraphale certainly seemed to be uncomfortable. That might also be because they almost seemed to be an echo from twelve years ago. The memory almost made him flinch. 

“No _Pride and Prejudice_ this time?” Crowley asked and he knew he was basically launching himself into dangerous territory. 

“No. Not tonight,” Aziraphale answered, his voice tight, and Crowley could almost hear him swallow in the silence that followed when Aziraphale turned his eyes back to the books on the shelf. “I was looking for a book I saw here last time, but I can’t find it…” 

He let his fingers caress the spine of a book, seemingly lost in thoughts, before turning himself towards Crowley with a forced smile. Crowley was still standing near the entrance of the lobby with his arms crossed. He shouldn’t have come here. 

“Can’t sleep?” Aziraphale asked.

“My brain still think we’re on east coast time, didn’t get the memo that we landed in Europe _yesterday_. What about you?”

Aziraphale sighed and planted himself in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs. Crowley let his arms drop to his side. “A rather pesky bout of insomnia, I’m afraid. Never got quite over that.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Crowley murmured and let himself flop into the chair across from Aziraphale. 

“Are you, er, enjoying your stay here so far?” Aziraphale still seemed uncomfortable and rather nervous. 

Crowley shrugged. “It’s ok. The resort always seemed to exotic when I still lived in London, but it’s just more of the same the rest the world has to offer honestly.” He pulled a face. “And there’s probably a honeymooning couple in the suite next to me if the sounds are anything to go of by.”

Aziraphale laughed nervously. “That’s unfortunate.”

Crowley studied the blonde man, how he sat upright in the chair and the way his fingers played with the hem of his shirt. He seemed to look straight past Crowley to other things in the lobby. 

“Stop being nervous, I’m not gonna snog you this time,” Crowley blurted out with a snort, even though he tried to be suave about it. Well, now he went there, no taking it back. 

A dark blush spread from Aziraphale’s neck towards his cheeks. “I don’t, I didn’t think - wouldn’t -”

The right thing to do was to interrupt Aziraphale and maybe to assure him again, or just to change the subject. Crowley did neither and just watched him struggle with the words and to see the blush creeping up his cheeks. Crowley wasn’t the kind of person who always did the right thing. He still felt a little bit bitter over what happened and how it destroyed their friendship. Aziraphale swallowed and looked directly at Crowley, his blue eyes piercing and he already forgot that he didn’t want to say anything before the other said anything.

“Thanks,” Aziraphale said. 

He waved his hand vaguely about. “Alright, whatever, don’t worry about it,” he said and got up from his chair. “I’m gonna take a shower and get some sleep. Good night, Aziraphale.”

* * *

Getting up after noon wasn’t really helping to acclimatise his body to this timezone, but it happened anyway. He decided to leave the resort to stroll over the boulevard, enjoy some of the French culture, nursing a few too many black coffees while he was at it. The caffeine and sleeping in far too late didn’t help him at all, so he couldn’t sleep again when night time came around. He tried to make himself a good cuppa, but he had never been really skilled at that. He found himself going out to the gym again, but avoided the lobby when returning. 

Crowley made it back to his hotel suite without being interrupted. He was glad because he was smelly and could _really_ use a shower. He stripped out of his clothes, turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. Impatiently, he kept sticking his hand in the water to feel if the temperature was right (because only psycho’s go into a shower without checking) but it was still at an unacceptable low temperature after a few minutes. It might be warm in France, but Crowley _really_ appreciated hot showers. 

He groaned, it didn’t seem to work at all. He walked over the phone and called to the front desk, but no one answered. Still naked, he decided to wrap himself in a towel, around his chest because that seemed the _decent_ thing to do in his caffeine fueled mind, never mind getting dressed or something. Besides, it was almost 2 am and he knew that most people were fast asleep at this time. So wrapped up in his towel he went down to the front desk. It was empty. The night auditor wasn’t there. Crowley tried to lean over the front desk to see inside the staff room, but it was dark and he couldn’t see anyone. A little impatient and embarrassed he rang the little bell on the desk a few times. When he heard footsteps approach from behind, he turned around relieved. 

“My dear boy, what has gotten into you?”

It wasn’t the night auditor, it was Aziraphale, almost sounding scandalized. He had a book in his hand and quite the concerned look on his face. Crowley looked down, realised that he was only wearing a towel and was ready to just give up and go back to his room. At that point he also realised that he wasn’t wearing any trousers and didn’t have any place to put his key. Which meant that he didn’t _have_ his key. 

“Ngh,” he said graciously and slapped a hand on his face and dragged it down. “No hot water.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and still looked a bit concerned. “Yes?”

“I tried to take a shower and there’s no hot water,” Crowley tried to explain, thinking it was kind of obvious since he was standing there in a towel. “And I forgot my keycard when coming down here.” He gestured to the empty front desk. “Guess I gotta wait until they come back.”

Aziraphale tried to stifle a laugh but clearly failed. “That seems rather inconvenient.”

“Yeah. No. Y’think?” Crowley groaned annoyed. 

“You can take a shower in my room, I probably have some clothes you could borrow and you can go back after to the front desk to sort your key out.” 

Crowley felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of their sockets. “Your room?” he asked, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “I really don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Nonsense,” Aziraphale countered. “You even brought your own towel! We can’t have you sit around in just a towel here for God knows how long. Come along.”

Crowley sighed and followed Aziraphale towards the lift. He was on the same floor as Crowley and they were both silent during the ride up. Crowley felt extremely self conscious while only wearing the towel and the idea to enter Aziraphale’s room or even worse, to shower there while he was so close and wear his clothes afterwards. He sure got himself in a pickle again. 

The lift doors opened and Crowley followed Aziraphale. He definitely noticed that they were walking in the same hallway as his own room was in. His eyes widened in a panic when they stopped next door. He remembered the noises that came from that room. 

“Your room is next to mine,” he said and he wished he could just disappear instead of going with him. “Remember the noises I remarked upon yesterday?” He didn’t mean to confront Aziraphale with that fact, it just happened. 

Aziraphale, who was taking his keycard out of his pocket, snapped his head up and his eyes grew big, but he smiled just a second later. “I’m so sorry! Adam gets a bit enthusiastic sometimes. Oh dear, I hope we didn’t disturbed you.”

Crowley’s brain went in full meltdown mode and shut itself mostly down, save for some basic function. "Nah," he managed to answer. 

"We do have to be quiet, Adam's asleep."

Crowley nodded, the only thing he could manage, and Aziraphale unlocked the door. The room was dark when they entered and Aziraphale showed him the bathroom. He closed the door behind them and turned on the lights. 

“I guess you know how everything works,” he whispered. “I’ll find you some clothes, you go ahead.”

Crowley nodded and Aziraphale left the bathroom. While chewing on his bottom lip, he turned on the water and just hoped it would work here. When he finally got into the shower, the hot water cleared his mind a little bit. Apparently Aziraphale was in here, with another man, making those noises because ‘he got a bit enthusiastic sometimes’? His brain almost shut down again, it was hard to wrap his mind around. His family was here! Somehow his very religious family was more accepting than his own. Aziraphale didn’t even seem flustered when he told Crowley about it. A lot had definitely changed since they last met. He couldn’t help but think that Aziraphale denying being gay the last time was actually just a rejection specifically for him. 

He couldn’t deny the attraction he still felt for the man, but maybe it was easier to be just friends. He really liked Aziraphale, he was just so kind and he felt like a moth being attracted to a flame when he was around. Friendship could be enough, it had to be. Besides, he himself had a girlfriend to think about. Maybe he and Aziraphale could stay in touch after this and rebuild that friendship they had so long ago.

He made his shower quick, no time to have an existential crisis in someone else’s shower. He dried himself with his own towel and opened the door as quiet as he could manage. He heard some movement in the room and a few moment later, Aziraphale showed up with clothes in his hand to offer him. Crowley smiled thankful, closed the door again and got dressed in the cream shorts that were at least two sizes to big and a pastel polo. He felt weird in any colour scheme that was not black or grey. 

Aziraphale smiled widely when he emerged from the bathroom, hair still a little wet. He walked him to the lift while Crowley thanked him.

“Don’t mention it! Really, it was no trouble at all,” Aziraphale tried to reassure him. “You look good in pastel!”

Crowley felt his cheeks grow hot and grumbled something when the lift arrived at their floor. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/), I take prompts now!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, big thank you to [JoyfulOmens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyfulOmens/) for helping me out! I got kinda lost this chapter, sorry.

Crowley’s mobile woke him up the next day. He opened his eyes blearily and reached for it. He couldn’t remember setting his alarm and was about to turn it off and scold his phone when he noticed that someone was calling him. He grumpily answered with a ‘Yeah?’.

“Tony, babe, did you just wake up?” a female voice asked at the other end of the line and Crowley visible shrank by the use of ‘Tony’. “Isn’t it past midday in France?”

Crowley scrambled up in his bed, as if Sandy could see him from his phone, and cleared his throat. “No m’not. I’ve been up for some time,” he denied. “What’s up?” 

“I just booked my ticket to England, I’m flying back home first from Malibu,” she started and Crowley just made affirming noises while only half listening and was glad that she would go home first because she could check up on his plants. Not that he didn’t trust his neighbour but he just wanted to be sure. He wanted to say this, but Sandy was already talking about something else so he decided to let her talk and text her later about it.

He pinned the phone between his ear and his shoulder, something that was a little easier with the bulky phones from his childhood, and got out of bed. He’s reminded of the previous night (or this early morning) by the clothes that hang over the chair and are definitely _not_ his own. He should return them, but not right now. Right now he could here the bed again, some strange noises and Aziraphale who’s calling out to Adam. He suddenly felt very cold and _really_ didn’t want to disturb.

“What are those noises, Tony? What’s going on there?” Sandy asked and pulled him back into his phone conversation.

“Hm? Oh, just the people in the room next to me,” Crowley answered. “Maybe they’re on their honeymoon or somethin’.”

“You should ask for a different room if they keep that up.”

“No babe, it’s no big deal. At least they’re quiet at night.”

Crowley was mostly a non-confrontive type, while Sandy was more like a I-wanna-speak-to-your-manager kinda gal. Ignoring the clothes, he went over to his own suitcase and tried to find a clean outfit the day. He decided that he would stay at the resort, maybe take a nice walk over the beach or something. While still being on the phone, he walked around his room to get himself ready for the day and was glad when Sandy finally decided that it was time for her to do whatever it was and hung up. 

The room next to him went silent a while ago, so Crowley did his best to fold up the clothes he got from Aziraphale (which wasn’t that great) and decided to knock on his door. Best get it over as soon as he could. After knocking he heard something on the other side of the door, but it took a while before the door actually opened. 

“Anthony!” Aziraphale said upon opening the door, his eyes wide in surprise. 

Crowley grimaced. “Er. Yeah. Hi,” he muttered. “Hope I’m not disturbing. Came to bring these back.”

He held up the stack of clumsily folded clothes. Aziraphale stared at it for a moment, a blank expression on his face, until he remembered the previous night. He smiled and took the stack from Crowley.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring it over right away!”

“Well, I just heard you and Adam in the room earlier so I knew you were here…” Crowley began explaining and Aziraphale didn’t even flinch at the words, wouldn’t even blush. It left Crowley quite stunned. “So I thought I would just bring it over before we both forgot about it.”

“Do you want to come in?” Aziraphale asked.

“No, er. I have… stuff… you know.”

He actually didn’t want to meet Adam right now and it felt rather like a fight or flight response right now. He made a few vague hand gestures as if that would explain it and Aziraphale nodded, but seemed a bit surprised. He quickly said his goodbye and walked away. 

* * *

After a quick lunch, Crowley grabbed his towel and sunscreen and headed for the beach. It was time to laze around in the sun, something he always enjoyed. When he passed the pool on his way to the beach, he heard someone yell his name. A little bit confused he turned to the sound, his eyes squinting over the pool to the other side. Aziraphale stood there and gave him a little wave. Crowley sighed and walked around the pool, dodging a few kids that ran about. 

“Aziraphale,” he greeted and glanced behind him, but he didn’t seem the usual flock of family. 

“I hope I’m not disturbing,” Aziraphale started and Crowley waved his concerns away. “Oh, good. I want you to meet Adam.”

Crowley protested weakly with a few vowels that came out as gibberish, but Aziraphale didn’t notice this as he turned around towards the pool and started waving and calling out for Adam. Crowley would prefer to just jump in the pool when he watched the tall, muscular man coming towards them. Next to him was the young boy with the golden curls and a big smile on his face. Aziraphale really did had it all, didn’t he? Instead of doing something stupid, he just swallowed and waved at them both when they stop in front of him and Aziraphale, who beamed at them.

“Crowley, this is Adam,”

Crowley was ready to extent his hand politely to the other man, but Aziraphale interrupted him. 

“And this is his father, Arthur. Arthur, Adam, this is Anthony Crowley.”

Now he did extend his hand to the man, Arthur, still thoroughly confused, and to the boy Adam, who grabbed his hand excited. Crowley had always _liked_ kids. He never really thought about having kids of his own because he didn’t think he would be a great father, but he enjoyed them nonetheless. As long as he could return them to their rightful owner at the end of the day.

“So very nice to meet you both. He told me a lot of good thing about you,” Crowley told the boy, who grinned widely at him. “I was just on my way to the beach, do you want to join?”

“Oh, can we, dad? Please?”

Arthur looked over to Aziraphale, who nodded. “Sure, but you listen to uncle Zira, alright? Everything he says.” 

Uncle Zira, this started to make a lot more sense to Crowley now, although it surprised him that anyone from his family would let any kids near him. Maybe Arthur didn’t knew who he was? He also knew that Aziraphale used to hate it when people tried to shorten his name, but apparently he got over that. A lot seemed to have changed anyway. 

“Promise,” Adam lisped through the hole where his front teeth were supposed to be. 

Aziraphale and Adam grabbed their stuff, the young boy enthusiastically running out in front of Crowley and Aziraphale who followed him to the beach. Crowley realised that he had drawn conclusion that weren’t even close to reality. He realised that he had a nephew, but he might be still alone and that was something he really didn’t wish for his former best friend. 

“So, uncle Zira, huh,” Crowley grinned. “Who’s his mother?”

“Michael,” Aziraphale answered with a small smile. 

“Good for her.”

They settled on the beach, Aziraphale and Crowley sat down in the sand like they did all those years ago, but this time with Adam running around them. They were building a sandcastle and Crowley tried very hard not to destroy this one. Instead he tried to teach Adam the secrets on how to build the best one, using the techniques that he and Aziraphale discovered together. Even this seemed to feel easy and he couldn’t remember the last time when life seemed this effortless.

When they were done building, Crowley stretched himself out on his towel and soaked up the afternoon sun. He was really tired; from the jetlag, going to bed at 4 am and being called awake at 10 am to building sandcastles with a very energetic eight year old. The sound of the waves gently crashing against the sand and children playing lulled him slowly into a dreamless, comfortable sleep.

Crowley woke up in a slight panic. He couldn’t really remember where he was for a moment and there was a strange pressure on his legs and hips, he couldn’t even move his legs. He opened his eyes and sat right op. He noticed two things; first that he was at the beach and he remembered that he was there with Adam and Aziraphale. Second was that those two were looking right at them, their eyes wide and hiding a snicker behind their hands. 

He looked at his legs next and found out that they were buried in the sand. Not just a heap of sand, but shaped into a mermaids tail, including crudely crafted scales. Aziraphale and Adam weren’t trying to hide their laughter anymore and Crowley starting laughing too. His eyes met Aziraphale’s, the skin around his eyes was all crinkled up. 

“Bastards, that’s what you are! Both of you!” he exclaimed with a smirk, before he tried to wiggle his way out of the sand so he could chase them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We'll have our first peek into the NSFW today!

Aziraphale remembered vividly when he saw Anthony Crowley again, for the first time in twelve years. He saw the lanky man walk up to the bar and his heart had almost leapt out of his chest. Without even thinking about it, he had walked up to him and asked if it was really him. He could feel his heart beating his throat and the nerves were pulsing through his body. Aziraphale almost apologize right there, but eventually decided against it. 

As opposite to Crowley, he did spend the two weeks every summer in France after the last time they saw each other. The next year, Aziraphale felt riddled with anxiety and guilt over the thing he said. He absolutely didn’t know what to do if Anthony showed up, couldn’t decide if he should apologize, ignore everything all together or tell him the truth. As it was, Anthony had decided for him by not showing up. 

But he still went with his parents and his siblings. The family grew when his siblings got married and had kids. Sometimes they couldn’t come with them, sometimes they would. Gabriel didn’t get married because he vowed clerical celibacy when he became a deacon and later the parish priest. It was different from Aziraphale, who never got married for different reasons all together. He just decided he liked life better on his own and that’s what he was doing. 

And now Crowley was back, but he was different. He grew out of his awkward lanky teen body, now he was lithe and svelte, he could only imagine the taut muscle underneath his clothing (Crowley would describe himself as a caffeinated noodle), something he was given a glimpse of when the man appeared in his towel at the front desk of the hotel. 

A few years after their last meeting twelve year ago, Aziraphale decided to keep an eye out for him. Not in the literal sense, he wouldn’t go looking for the man himself, but he knew that his dad was an important politician so there must’ve been something about his family in the news. It wasn’t really that hard to find at first, Crowley got himself into trouble often and Aziraphale felt like he was intruding while reading about him, but it also felt like watching a car crash happen in front of you and not being able to look away. 

So Aziraphale read how Crowley got kicked out of University in his first year, how he got in and out of rehab multiple times, was oddly jealous of his handsome lovers and flings and saw him getting arrested on charges of public indecency, intoxication and under the influence of drugs. It seemed to get worse and it suddenly stopped. There were a few vague articles here and there, he was seen with his parents and people speculated that he ‘redeemed’ himself. When that started, Aziraphale stopped looking him up. 

* * *

Aziraphale couldn’t quite remember how he ended up on the floor of his hotel room, an empty wine glass in his hand and definitely thoroughly sloshed. Right now, his gaze was fixed on Anthony Crowley’s mouth, whose lips were stained a pretty red from the wine they had been drinking. The man was talking animatedly with his hands about something, but Aziraphale wasn’t really listening. 

At first it seemed like Crowley was avoiding him and Aziraphale couldn’t blame him. He tried to apologize during their dinner, but couldn’t find the courage to do so. The last few days had been different, though. Crowley was lounging around the pool or on the beach and didn’t seem to mind if he joined him. Somehow, somewhere, Crowley and Aziraphale had decided to drink some wine and Aziraphale had invited him back to his room for even more wine. Crowley had shoved his sunglasses into his auburn hair and Aziraphale could see his almost golden eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. 

“Penny for your thoughts? Aziraphale?” 

Aziraphale blinked and realised that Crowley asked him something. “Er- yes, sorry,” he excused himself. “What was that?” 

Crowley snorted. “Where in the everloving fuck where you? It’s not on earth, that much is clear.”

“It’s just the wine. Got a little distracted.”

Crowley started to wave his hands around again. “My point was, platypus lay eggs and they are duck-billed! So why not call them ducks?”

“They’re venomous, dear boy! Ducks aren’t venomous.”

“They are? Nah, can’t be,” Crowley muttered and he refilled their wine glasses. He squinted at the glasses while pouring the wine out of the bottle, trying to aim correctly. “Pretty sure it’s just a practical joke, platypus-us… platypi?”

“Platypi,” Aziraphale confirmed. “Or platypuses or platypoplu- er, platypodes, even.”

“See, even the name is stupid.” 

Aziraphale giggled and slapped his hand over his mouth. _That_ was embarrassing. Two eyes that seemed like liquid gold in light of the hotel room looked at him without blinking and a silence followed. A few seconds later, Crowley bursted out laughing. It’s a carefree laugh and Aziraphale can’t help it but to laugh with him. 

Crowley slipped off the bed he was sitting on, to the floor. He was now on eye level with Aziraphale. He pulled one leg up and threw his arm around it, while lounging back to rest against the mattress behind him. He was still smiling after their laughter faded away and it made Aziraphale’s heart stutter and his smile faltered. He knew it was wrong to feel like this after all these years. He had hurt Anthony back then and he knew he would do it again. Not because he wanted to, but because he still couldn’t come out to his family and never would. When he finally came to terms with the fact that he did like men, he decided to keep to himself for the rest of his life. The alcohol made his resolution waver. 

“You alright?” Crowley asked, his brows knitted with concern and his smile disappeared. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Aziraphale waved his concerns away and sipped from his wine. “You know platypuses are mammals?” 

“No!” He sounded like someone personally offended him. “They lay eggs! I just told you so. They’re birds. Must be birds. Gotta blame Australia for that.”

Aziraphale grinned and Crowley raised his eyebrow at him, which made Aziraphale snicker loudly. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Crowley asked petulantly and nudged the others foot with his own outstretched foot. 

“No!” He was still snickering. 

“Yes, you are!”

Crowley got half up from his seated position on the floor and decided it would do to crawl ahead towards Aziraphale on his knees instead. The whole spectacle only made him laugh even more. Crowley’s lip tugged up on one side into a grin while he pushed Aziraphale over to the ground and started tickling him. 

“No! That’s not fair! Stop it!” Aziraphale howled laughing and tried to push his hands away. 

“You don’t think I would let you get away with that, huh angel?”

They were both pretty sloshed at this point and Crowley’s movements weren’t very precise at this point. Aziraphale caught his hands and held them together so he couldn’t tickle him anymore, while he tried to catch his breath. 

“I think you’ve made your point now!” Aziraphale huffed.

He pushed his hands away with a coy smile, which made Crowley lose his balance. He almost toppled over on top of Aziraphale, but redirected himself to collapse next to him on his side. 

“I should’ve pinned you down,” he murmured.

That made Aziraphale laugh again. “You’re too drunk to do such a thing.”

“I think you’re right.” He yawned. “M'tired.”

Aziraphale was suddenly very aware of the fact that Crowley was laying down next to him, being actually _very_ close. Crowley was laying down on his side, his leg was pressed up against Aziraphale’s and he could feel the heat through his own trousers. Crowley had his head propped up on his hand, his elbow resting on the floor. Aziraphale didn’t dare to move, afraid that Crowley would move away. 

He could hear that Crowley also had some issues with getting his breathing under control. He finally found the confidence to move a little and look to his side. Crowley look at him with his eyes half closed, a rosy blush spread across his pale skin. He wanted to reach out to him so badly and snog the man silly. He wasn’t intoxicated enough to do exactly that, but his hand reached out nonetheless and without his permission. 

Aziraphale brushed a lost strand of auburn hair from Crowley’s face and let his fingers wander down along his sharp cheekbones, barely touching his skin. Crowley leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a sigh. He could feel the skin of his hand tingle pleasantly. His heart jerked when Crowley pressed his leg firmer against his and a familiar feeling found its way to his stomach. Aziraphale turned to his side so he mirrored Crowley and wiggled himself slightly closer. Crowley’s breath hitched when Aziraphale pressed his legs against his. 

Against his better judgement, Aziraphale leaned in. For a second it seemed like Crowley would do the same, but he suddenly jerked back and scrambled up on his feet, his cheeks red hot. Aziraphale started at him with his lips slightly parted and tried to understand what was going on. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry Aziraphale,” Crowley croaked and he tried to locate his sunglasses, to push them on his nose when he found them. 

Aziraphale sat up from the floor. “No, it’s… I didn’t mind. Really,” he admitted. 

“I do,” Crowley started walking backwards and bumped into the bed while Aziraphale got up from the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s complicated. Not your fault, totally not your fault.”

With those words he turned around and left the room. A few seconds later the door closed behind him and Aziraphale groaned. A lot happened in the span of a few minutes and he didn’t know how to deal with it. The world spinned slightly around him, he was aroused and half-hard in his pants. Oh, he hoped Crowley hadn’t noticed that, that would be really embarrassing. 

He let himself fall ungracefully on the bed and palmed his half erection through his trousers, which rose to attention quickly. That was the most physical contact he had in a long while and it showed. He sighed and shimmied out of it trousers and pants without getting up. He let his hands wander over his pale thighs, caressing the soft skin and closing his eyes so he could pretend it weren’t his own hands. His hands came back up and gripped the base of his cock impatiently. He started to stroke himself slowly, his thumb brushing over the slit and rubbing a drop of precome all over the head. He shivered and imagined it was Crowley’s tongue there instead. 

With that image in mind, his golden eyes staring back up from in between his legs, his tongue doing tricks he could only dream of, he started to move his hand faster, until he ended up fucking his fist in a slightly drunken frenzy. His lips fell open and he started panting softly, until he could feel a sensation building up quickly, making his toes curl. Aziraphale arched his back when he spilled out over his hand and his stomach with a moan louder than intended. He pushed his free hand over his mouth and tried to stifle his moans as he rode out his orgasm in waves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!
> 
> A BIG thank you to [ZabbyPerno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZabbyPerno/) for getting me back on track and allowing me to bounce ideas off of them. Also a big thanks to the [Ineffable Writers Guild Discord server](https://discordapp.com/invite/8Z9dQPe) and everyone there for listening to my struggles during my writers block.

Aziraphale feared for what the next day would bring him. He woke up with a headache that reminded him of the previous night, the wine, the rejection and his sad wank. He knew he had no one he could talk to about this, so he just got dressed, took some paracetamol for his headache and went out to have breakfast with his family. 

While walking back from breakfast, Michael caught up with him.

“Adam is very insistent to build more sandcastles at the beach today,” she sighed. “Arthur and I were planning to go into town today, I was wondering if you could look after Adam. Just for a few hours, until we’re back.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Aziraphale beamed to his older sister. “Adam is an absolute delight to be around.”

Michael smiled and looked behind them, her smile fading. “Just… please don’t let him spend too much time with Anthony.”

“What?” Aziraphale asked slightly offended. “Crowley is a perfectly normal adult. Why would you mind?”

Michael sighed again. “I know. It’s just that… Gabriel saw you guys on the beach the other day and he just can’t let it go. He already told mum and dad and they’re on his side. I really don’t want to ruin our holiday over this.”

Aziraphale groaned internally, he knew how his parents and brother could be when they didn’t approve of something, he had been the subject of that disapproval many times and still hadn’t found it in him to rebel completely against it. Living on his own while reaching the age of thirty was already pushing it far enough. 

“What’s wrong with him?” He just wanted to see if she would dare to answer this, but sounded like a petulant child instead.

“You know that, Aziraphale,” Michael grimaced. “You also know how I feel about it.”

“Alright,” he gave in. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. We don’t own this resort and I can’t help where other people go.”

That being said, he had a faint idea that he wouldn’t have to avoid Crowley, he would do it himself after his butchered attempt to kiss him last night and Aziraphale didn’t feel like bringing it up anyway. 

“Thanks, that’s all I’m asking. You’re a great brother!” She pecked him on his cheek and called Adam over. 

* * *

Adam was a typical eight year old, unable to control his excitement. He ran ahead of Aziraphale towards the beach and Aziraphale did try to keep up, but he also wasn’t about to run needlessly so the boy was a little ahead of him. He just tried to enjoy the sun and the sound of waves crashing on the beach, but felt restless and nervous instead. 

“Adam! Find a lounger first and put your stuff on it,” Aziraphale called ahead. “Did your mum applied sunscreen already?” 

“Mr. Crowley!” Adams voice sounded over the beach. 

Aziraphale paled and his legs didn’t feel the need to keep walking forward. He pushed through his own embarrassment and hurried a little quicker towards Adam and Crowley. 

“Adam! You can just go and disturb people like that. I’m sure Mr. Crowley likes his peace and quiet,” he warned the young boy, looking at him instead of Crowley. “I’m so sorry, Michael asked me to look after him and he-”

Crowley interrupted his apology. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t really mind.”

Adam looked up to the two adults. “So, can we make sandcastles now?” he asked impatiently. 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who smirked awkwardly at him. It certainly didn’t make him feel any less nervous and he sighed. “Sure, why not,” Crowley answered. 

“Sunscreen first, Adam,” Aziraphale told the young boy, who complied reluctantly. 

He wondered if he should apologize. He hadn’t last night, but Crowley did, said it wasn’t his fault. It seemed like they were getting really good in not discussing things like that. He was overthinking again and Crowley was already off with Adam to build some castles. Aziraphale got up a tad bit reluctantly and joined the two in the sand. 

“Jimmy from school has two dads,” Adam suddenly said, without looking up from where his hands were shoving sand into a small bucket. “Mrs. Johnson said it’s the same as having a mum an’ a dad an’ it’s alright.”

Aziraphale was wondering where Adam was going with this and what had prompted him to tell them about that. He sneaked a glance at Crowley, who had only quirked one eyebrow up above his sunglasses, but didn’t say anything. “That’s nice for Jimmy, dear.” 

“Uncle Gabe said it’s not right. He said it’s a sin like when Thomas hit Macy with a rock during break time an’ he said that Mr. Crowley is tempting uncle Zira to sin.”

The young boy still wasn’t looking up while telling all of this, Crowley looked like he was choking on air and Aziraphale felt his face heating up and a ferocious blush creeping up from his neck. He was mostly furious for Gabriel teaching that to an eight year old 

“Ngk, we’re not… _I’m_ not- he said _what_?” Crowley was the first to say something. 

Aziraphale avoided eye contact with Crowley. “What do you think?” he asked Adam softly.

This made him look up. “I think it’s jus’ fine as long as you don’t go around kissing like mum an’ dad. That’s gross.” With those words, he grimaced. 

“Didn’t exactly needed _that_ visual,” Crowley grumbled. “I’m with you kid, I don’t want to see your mum and dad kissing either.”

Aziraphale let out a nervous little laugh. He was glad that Adam formed his own opinions about things and that Gabriel didn’t seem to have influenced him too badly, but the subject didn’t make him any less anxious about what his family thought about him or what Crowley would think about him now. 

“Crowley and I are just friends, Adam. Don’t listen to uncle Gabe.”

He didn’t notice Crowley getting up and sneaking off while he was absentmindedly patted some sand into something vaguely dome shaped. He also didn’t see how the redhead took Adam’s bucket with him, walked into the water, scooped up said water, and walked back to the two sandcastle builders. He did notice when a splash of cold water hit both him and Adam and heard the loud cackling behind him. 

Aziraphale jumped up with an undignified yelp and turned around. “You… absolute menace!” 

Crowley just grinned at them. Adam knew exactly what to do and that was launching a water attack to Crowley. He just ran straight into the sea and started to splash water into his general direction. Aziraphale, however, was also in this general direction. His yelp sounded a lot more ready for revenge this time around. Against his better judgement, he ran into the cold water after Adam to splash him back. Crowley had exactly the same idea and joined them for an all-out water fight. At one point, Adam tackled Aziraphale, who tried to grab something to hold on. This happened to be Crowley’s shoulder, which caused him to pull them both off their feet and submerge into the waves. 

When he emerged, Crowley and Adam were laughing. He didn’t like the look the two gave each other. “Don’t you _dare_ gang up on me!” he warned them with no real malice in his voice. 

* * *

About an hour later, the two adults were out of breath and sitting on the lounger soaking wet. Adam had found some other kids to continue his water-war with so they could catch a much needed break. Aziraphale really wasn’t used to trying to keep up with children and it showed. Crowley appeared to be only slightly less bothered by running around through water. 

The whole thing seemed to have relieved some of the awkwardness between them as they were joking back and forth, which also made sure that Aziraphale didn’t focus too much on how the wet clothes were sticking to Crowley’s body. 

“Did you know that sailors cut into a sperm whale’s head and it released a milky white fluid so that’s why they called them sperm whales?” Aziraphale chuckled, remembering a conversation that happened a long time ago. 

Crowley scrunched his nose, but Aziraphale saw the smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “Really? That’s just immature.”

“Oh, you’re the one to talk with your vagina whales!”

“I was sixteen! Of course I was immature,” Crowley grinned and swatted vaguely in Aziraphale’s direction. 

“Tony?”

The high pitched voice made Aziraphale look up. A woman he had never seen before was standing behind Crowley, looking a little exasperated and impatient. Her dark brown hair was styled neatly in wavy curls and she was wearing a lilac dress made out of some lacy material which looked very expensive. Her high heeled sandals made her look like she walked out from some fancy party and definitely not like she belonged on a beach in France. 

Aziraphale was about to ask who Tony was, when he noticed that Crowley’s face seemed to have drained of all colour and he turned around slowly. 

“Sandy! What are you doing here?” 

Crowley got up quickly and the woman named Sandy grimaced at him. Aziraphale noticed the shift in his attitude, his demeanor seemed to change and he quickly adapted a more American accent. 

“You’re all wet,” she noted with a hint of something that sounded like disgust, her accent was very obviously American. 

“Yeah, I was just… in the sea.” Crowley waved his hands around in the direction of the water. “With my friend. Aziraphale.” 

That made Sandy’s gaze shift to him and she gave him a critical once over. Her expression didn’t change at all and Aziraphale felt like he’d rather get swallowed by the sand. Instead of doing just that, he stepped next to Crowley and smiled his best smile at her. 

“Hello! I’m Aziraphale,” he introduced himself. 

“Our family’s used to vacation here every year. Aziraphale, this is Sandy, my-” He seemed to hesitate. “girlfriend.” He seemed nervous somehow, dragging his hand through his wet hair.

Sandy smiled back at him, a smile consisting of teeth that were too white and didn’t seem genuine at all. Suddenly, Aziraphale felt very nauseous, as if someone punched the air out of his lungs. His girlfriend? They had talked a lot the past few days and he hadn’t mentioned his girlfriend even once. The way Crowley left him the previous night made a lot more sense, but a girlfriend left him with more questions than answers. 

“Don’t look so shocked babe, I thought it would be nice to visit you before we fly to London, spend a few days together, you know. My suitcases are in the lobby, let’s go.”

“Er- Yeah. Sure, babe.” Crowley looked apologetic at Aziraphale. “Say bye to Adam for me.”

Aziraphale could only nod and watch how they both walked back to the hotel, Sandy struggling to walk over the sand in her high heels while chattering. 

“Why did you have to go to the French coast? Couldn’t you pick a more exciting place?” 

He sank down on the lounger and gripped the edges tightly, like he had to hold to something to ground himself. Maybe he was just stupid assuming he would still be the same person as before. Sandy calling him ‘babe’ and ‘Tony’ made him reevaluate everything he knew about Crowley and what he had told him about himself. 

“Who was that woman?” 

A familiar voice pulled Aziraphale out and he looked up to Michael and Arthur. Adam came back running when he saw his parents appear. Aziraphale cleared his throat before speaking. 

“Sandy, his girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” Michael frowned.

“Neither did I.”

“Gabriel is gonna have a field day with this one,” his sister remarked, before kneeling down towards Adam and greeting the young boy. 

Aziraphale could only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay yet again! The next chapter is already almost done so it should be up next week.

Aziraphale spotted Sandy and Crowley at an afternoon yoga class, given by an impressively bendy elderly lady in the shade. He almost walked into a column because he was fixated on the piece of skin that was exposed above his waistband when Crowley moved, and the black hint of ink that crept out from underneath it. He didn’t know that Crowley had any tattoos, but he’d imagined it before. He watched the muscled of his arms flex, the way they stretched and relaxed again. 

Crowley seemed pretty flexible, but also a little uncomfortable. Aziraphale hurried away before anyone caught him staring with his mouth open and tried to put the image out of his mind. 

* * *

The next time Aziraphale saw Sandy and Crowley, it was right before dinner. Crowley was taking pictures with a camera of Sandy, the young woman was dressed in something that was probably very stylish and posed. Aziraphale watched them curiously from a distance, his arms folded over each other. 

He started to feel a bit uncomfortable when Sandy walked back and checked the pictures that Crowley just made of her. She didn’t seem to be satisfied and raised her voice a bit while waving her arms around. He just wanted to walk away when she spotted him, a sudden smile appearing on her face.

“Azi!” she yelled at him.

He tried very hard not to show his discomfort and walked towards the pair. Crowley seemed just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was and Sandy didn’t seem to notice, but something felt off. 

“Could you take a picture of me and Tony, please?” she asked him excitedly, but didn’t wait for an answer and shoved the camera into his hands. 

“Babe…” Crowley protested weakly. 

“Sure, but I’m not as good of a photographer as Anthony,” Aziraphale answered anyway, looking at Crowley, who looked away awkwardly. 

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine! Come on babe, stand up straight…”

Aziraphale tuned out all the instructions that Sandy was giving to Crowley and just shot some pictures and hoped he did alright. Even he got some instructions and it took longer than he would’ve liked. 

“Thank you _so_ much.” Sandy smiled a wide smile with perfect white teeth at him. “Do you wanna join us for dinner? I’m sure you have great stories about Tony, right babe?”

“I’m sure,” Crowley muttered and he seemed to get even more uncomfortable.

“Oh no, I really can’t,” Aziraphale excused himself immediately. “I always have dinner with my family, it’s tradition.” He checked his watch. “I can’t let them wait. You two have a lovely dinner together.”

He smiled and walked away with those words, but was left with a strange feeling about the whole interaction. She seemed so different from Crowley, the whole ‘Tony’ and ‘babe’ felt off, but Crowley probably changed a lot since last time and if he was happy, Aziraphale wouldn’t say a thing about it. 

* * *

Aziraphale laid in bed, wide awake. He’d gone to his room right after dinner, not feeling like spending more time with his family tonight. Instead he drew himself a relaxing bath, grabbed an old paperback of ‘Persuasion’, one of his favourite Austen books to enjoy while taking a bath. It wasn’t her best work, not as nuanced and deep, but perfectly romantic and a nice read. 

Somehow he started to resonate with Anne Elliot and her superficial family, her regrets of rejecting the courteous captain Wentworth and seeing him again after so many years without any contact, that he was still contemplating the whole story and its parallels to his own life in bed hours later. 

He always had issues with insomnia since he was young and tonight was no different. He groaned and slipped his pillow over his head when he heard muffled voices in the room next to him. Normal sounds didn’t carry far in these rooms, so he assumed they were actually talking pretty loud. 

Aziraphale realised quickly it came from Crowley’s room and it sounded like they were arguing. He tried to hear what they were saying, but it was all too muffled. It was only getting louder and getting on his nerves, so he got out of bed and decided to knock on the door to see if they could keep it down. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know that he was a little more agitated than he usually would be if people were loud because it was Crowley and his girlfriend, but he pointedly ignored that part. 

When he got out in the hallway and in front of the door, it sounded like something loud crashed inside the room. He was just about the knock on the door, but stepped back instead, not knowing if he should disturb now or intervention was needed. 

The door suddenly opened and Crowley stood in the opening, he froze when he saw Aziraphale, his mouth became razor thin. Behind him, Sandy screamed something at him. Crowley looked over his shoulder once before closing the door and walking away towards the lift without saying anything. He could still hear Sandy screaming and more stuff crashing. 

* * *

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to ‘their’ spot on his last day. He didn’t know if Crowley was going to be there, or even wanted to be there. Instead he was just doubting himself at the edge of the path leading away from the resort.

“Want to go for a walk?”

A sudden voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Crowley standing next to him. He didn’t look at Aziraphale, but at the path ahead of them instead. 

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. 

They walked in silence for a while and just followed the path. Crowley had pushed his hands into the pockets of his shorts and only looked at the ground. Aziraphale bit his bottom lip. The silence felt uncomfortable and he wanted to fill it with mindless chatter, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“So… a girlfriend,” Aziraphale mused quietly and without looking up. He was fretting with the hem of his shirt. “Didn’t know you... er-”

“I’m bisexual,” Crowley interrupted him. “That’s a thing, you know.”

“Couldn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I… before I embarrassed myself the other night?” Aziraphale suddenly cried out. 

“Embarrassssed yourself?” Crowley hissed incredulous and they stopped walking. “Yes. No. ‘Course. _You’re_ the one that embarrassed himself.”

Aziraphale huffed, but didn’t looked Crowley in the eye, or somewhere at his sunglasses as it were. Crowley stepped forward towards Aziraphale, his fists clenched next to his body and face unreadable because of his shades. Aziraphale stepped back, until his back hit the tree behind him and Crowley crowded against him. Both of his hands were firmly planted against the tree besides Aziraphale’s shoulders so he couldn’t move. This all happened within seconds and there was a slight panic in Aziraphale’s eyes, which Crowley failed to notice. It wasn’t like he would hurt him, Aziraphale knew that.

He had a hard time focusing on what was going on. Crowley was so close, he could feel his body heat through their clothes, with their lower bodies pressing together. It made him forget how to breath. He could see Crowley’s arms next to him, his biceps flexed and hands pushed against the tree. He had tiny, faded scars around the inside of his arm and a small bit of ink that peeked from under his sleeve on the inside of his bicep. 

“Right, because _I_ never tried to kiss my best friend and asked him to run away together,” he growled, pushing his body against the other. 

Crowley looked like he was ready to pounce, but suddenly stepped backwards and dragged his hands over his face. Aziraphale caught a glimpse of amber coloured eyes that seemed more tired than he had ever seen them before. Aziraphale glanced around them, making sure there was no one around who could’ve seen what just happened. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he apologised immediately. 

“I’m sorry too,” Aziraphale said quietly. “For what I just said and for the last time. I can’t- it’s just...” 

He paused and sighed, not knowing what his point was and what he wanted to say. It wasn’t something that happened often for him. It was like he wanted to tell the man everything he had been feeling for the past years, his fears of his family finding out, his resolve to just live his life alone and how Crowley made him feel like he didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

It also made him realise that Crowley wouldn’t feel the same. However he felt about Aziraphale all these years ago, that must’ve changed. Crowley now had a gorgeous American girlfriend, all fashionable and skinny, while Aziraphale gained a bit of weight and got even more bookish with no sense of style. He could never be the type of handsome men like Crowley. 

“Wanna check and see if our spot is still here?” Crowley asked and Aziraphale nodded thankful changing the subject. “I hope we don’t get lost.”

Aziraphale chuckled nervously. He hadn’t been since the last time he met Crowley there. He was certainly tempted to go back, but he didn’t want to revisit all the memories attached to the place. 

“I have a perfectly good sense of direction,” he answered as they left the path. “And you probably have a mobile phone that can Google us back to the resort.”

Crowley snorted. “Google us back? Do you even have a smartphone?” 

Aziraphale hesitated. “Well, yes, in fact I do,” he answered primly. “Uriel gave me one for my birthday. I just always forget to charge it and bring it with me.”

Aziraphale knew he was pouting. Most people had an instant judgement ready when he said that he didn’t use a mobile, but Crowley just shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. Even though he just made fun of his use of Google, it felt playful and not mean. 

“Are you and Sandy ok?” he asked carefully. 

“Yeah. Of course. She er- was just in a mood for a bit. Jetlag does that to her, she’s fine now.”

“Oh, good,” Aziraphale said relieved. “We should meet for dinner sometimes when you’re both in London, I would love to get to know her better.”

They almost arrived at their spot when they both heard voices. Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who smirked and put his finger to his lips to gesture him to stay silent. Aziraphale nodded and followed Crowley, who was walking slowly towards the clearing. 

Aziraphale walked behind him and couldn’t help but look at the way Crowley moved. The slow sway of his hips, his long legs and the curve of his arse that only just showed in his shorts that were a little too loose for Aziraphale’s liking. His shirt was rucked up a bit in the back and showed the tiniest hint of his back. 

It was like a forbidden fruit. He knew he couldn’t have it, but it didn’t stop him from wanting it, looking at at, _fantasising about it_. Ever since he saw Crowley in that yoga class, he couldn’t stop thinking about certain things and crowding him against a tree just moments before this certainly did not help at all. 

Aziraphale got pulled back into reality when Crowley gestured at him to crouch down next to him. They both looked into the clearing and saw two young people who were obviously a couple, a giggling young woman and an besotted young man who were just starting a snogging session that seemed a little inappropriate to be taking place outside. 

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each and Aziraphale slapped his hand in front of his mouth to stifle a laugh. They both got up and walked away as quietly as they could and started running a bit farther away when they couldn’t hold their laughing in anymore.

“I guess it’s not our spot anymore,” Crowley grinned when he had catched his breath. 

“It’s time to hand it to the new generation,” Aziraphale declared noble, which made Crowley just burst out laughing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to thank everyone for leaving comments and support, it means the world to me, thank you so much!  
> This chapter is going to be a little bit longer than my usual chapters, hope you enjoy.

Ever since Aziraphale’s return to London, the weather had been rather mild. It wasn’t as warm as the days in France, but it was pleasant. Heat in the big city always felt rather suffocating to him and he preferred a mild summer. 

Today it had been colder and it was raining off and on. He was looking forward to a quiet night in after work and do some reading with a glass of his favorite wine. It was Friday night, he had the weekend off and Gabriel would come over on Saturday to pick up an expensive piece of religious art that Aziraphale had found. It wasn’t something that belonged in their museum so he had send his older brother a message asking if he wanted to buy it, because he knew how Gabriel liked to show off. Aziraphale also offered to just send it to him with a great delivery service that the museum often used, but Gabriel insisted to pick it up himself so he could see his little brother and go out for lunch together. 

He picked up his weekly order of his favourite curry and a slice of a delectable looking coconut cake, while the sky was turning unusually dark early for this time of the year. A storm was obviously coming and Aziraphale hurried back to his flat above the small bookshop.

He had just poured himself a second glass of wine after doing the dishes from dinner and his dessert, when he sat back down in his favourite chair with the book he was reading. He could hear the sound of rain against the window and the distant sound of wind when someone rang his doorbell. According to the clock it was already past 10 pm and he wondered who would disturb him this late. He briefly considered ignoring the doorbell, but decided against it and got up.

Aziraphale hurried down the stairs and fumbled with his keys for a moment before he opened the door. A tall man in a leather jacket stood in the rain, thoroughly soaked. His auburn hair sticking to his face and the look in his eyes made Aziraphale step aside so Crowley could come in. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

“Aziraphale… I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Just come in dear, this is no weather to be outside in. Take off your coat and shoes,” Aziraphale told him right away. 

Crowley shrugged off the leather jacket, which Aziraphale took from him, and squatted to take off his shoes, which looked like rather expensive leather shoes instead of sensible wellies suited for the weather. Even his socks and the black henley he wore underneath his jacket seemed to be completely soaked.

“Better take these off too,” he said, pointing at his socks.

Crowley only nodded and took them off, while Aziraphale walked back up the stairs to his flat. He hung the jacket on the coat rack to dry and showed him where to put his shoes. He felt strangely nervous to show his flat to Crowley and the silence felt thick and uncomfortable. He usually didn’t bring people over to his flat and he couldn’t remember the last time he tidied. Books were spread all over the place and it was dusty. 

“The bathroom is over there. There’s towels in there to dry off. I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

Aziraphale walked quickly towards his bedroom, the only bedroom in the flat, and shut the door behind him. Crowley hadn’t said a word since he told him he didn’t know where else to go and Aziraphale hadn’t even asked why. Something in Crowley’s amber eyes told him something was going on and he would wait until Crowley explained it to him. 

He tried not to think about the way his henley was clinging at his body and opened his wardrobe looking for something for Crowley to wear. Aziraphale realised how boring his clothes actually wear, he barely owned anything black or gray, his trousers were a comfortable range of khaki and beige. He had a sizeable collection of argyle sweater vests with matching bow ties, waistcoats to switch them out in the summertime, an even bigger collection of shirt sleeves and a few polo’s he rarely wore, that was reserved for his summer holiday or on the rare occasion that it was really hot in London. He had a few spare cardigans and jumpers, but actually preferred wearing his sweater vests, even though he knew it made him look older than he actually was. 

Eventually, he decided on one of his white undershirts and his least embarrassing cardigan, which was a plain blue gray colour. It was a tad bit too tight for him and he never wore it. He pulled some joggers from somewhere on the bottom of his closet, plus some tartan socks and walked back towards the bathroom. 

He knocked politely on the door. “Got some dry clothes for you.”

Crowley opened the bathroom door, holding a white towel in one hand. His hair was mussed and a bit drier than it was before. “Thanks,” he murmured. 

“We seem to be making quite the habit of you wearing my clothes,” Aziraphale teased. 

“Maybe I just like your clothes,” Crowley said back, but there wasn’t any playfulness in his voice. His amber eyes seemed almost liquid in the light of the bathroom, but they were red rimmed, as if he’d been crying. 

Aziraphale smiled at him and handed him the small stack of clothes. “You can put your wet clothes in the dryer.” He turned around and walked away from the bathroom, looking around his living room and tried to see it through someone else’s eyes. 

The books that were on every surface, the antique looking mismatched furniture. Aziraphale’s favourite armchair, which used to be a mustard colour but had faded over time. Next to it a side table with a reading light and his glass of wine, the old settee where no one ever sat on. He noticed the pens and notebooks everywhere, but also the dirty teacups that he never cleaned up, some half full with liquid because he just forgot about it. 

“Tartan socks?” he heard from the bathroom.

“Tartan’s stylish!” Aziraphale replied offended.

He started bustling around, collecting all the empty cups, taking them to the kitchen and placing them in his sink. He tried to restack some piles, lining up his pens and closing his notebooks and hoped it all looked a little less chaotic. 

“Do you want some tea?” Aziraphale asked through the door.

“You have anything stronger?” 

The door of the bathroom opened at the same time and Crowley stepped out, one arm slung uncomfortably over his body, as if he tried to hide it. The white undershirt was a bit big on him, but the cardigan fit him better and looked comfy. The v neck of the shirt revealed a small patch of auburn hair and Aziraphale had to look away so he wouldn’t stare at it.

Aziraphale smiled at him and walked into the bathroom. “Of course, I have a great whiskey that begs to be opened.”

“Whiskey is alright,” Crowley murmured as an answer while Aziraphale turned on the dryer. 

“Go sit, I’ll grab us some,” Aziraphale told him because he was just standing awkwardly around. 

While Crowley walked to the settee, Aziraphale walked over to the antique liquor cabinet that had cost him a fortune. He just loved how it looked, even though he didn’t have a lot of bottles to put in there. He used it mostly for his wine collection and the glasses. 

He brought the glasses and the bottle over, set them down on the coffee table and filled them with the appropriate amount. He handed one glass to Crowley, who was still quiet. He accepted the glass, brought it to his lips and just emptied it in one big gulp.

“Alright,” Aziraphale said and just poured him a new one. 

This time, Crowley didn’t drink the whole thing at once. Aziraphale grabbed his own glass and leaned back into his comfortable armchair, looking expectantly at Crowley. Crowley was just silent again and swirled the liquid in his glass. It took him a minute before he looked up to Aziraphale. He almost looked naked without his sunglasses. 

“What?” he asked.

“Well, why are you here? Not that I mind, it’s always lovely seeing you.”

“Ngh,” Crowley said, before dragging his hands over his face and through his still damp hair. He sighed and slumped a bit on the couch, still taking up way less space than he usually did with his sprawling. “Sandy broke up with me.”

“Wait, what? What happened?” 

“We got into… an argument of sorts. We’ve been staying in my flat in Mayfair-”

“You have a flat in Mayfair?” Aziraphale interrupted him astounded. 

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point. Or it is the point,” Crowley said, gesturing something vague. “ _Anyway_ , Sandy doesn’t like my flat in Mayfair and said she wanted me to sell it as soon as everything is settled here. But I like it, it’s the only thing that’s really in my name right now and I’ve had it since… forever it seems. She thinks that I don’t want to commit to our life together if I don’t sell and told me I could leave if I wasn’t going to sell it.”

Crowley fell silent and Aziraphale swallowed, he felt like Crowley needed a bit of silence. So instead of saying anything, he just sipped his whiskey. Crowley stared at his drink again. 

“She got mad and I just left. She told me it was over and I just walked here.”

“You walked all the way here from Mayfair? No wonder you were soaked.”

“It’s not that far,” Crowley countered.

“It is when it’s raining.”

Aziraphale noticed that the combination of the glass of wine he drank earlier and the whiskey was making him say things he usually wouldn't. 

“Why is it the only thing in your name? I always thought your parents were, er- _very_ well off.”

“Oh, yeah. _They_ are,” Crowley answered bitter. “They were really good in holding that over my head if I didn’t do what they wanted. Somehow they still do.”

The whiskey also influenced Crowley, who opened up to Aziraphale about all the conditions his parents had set up for his trust fund and being able to get his inheritance. The monthly drug tests, the job requirements, how he should stay out of the tabloids, which was why he never risked getting drunk anymore. He told Aziraphale about his fears of losing everything he had build for himself in New York. 

“I think I already lost myself,” Crowley confessed. 

Aziraphale refilled their drinks and got up so he could sit next to Crowley on the settee. He had already taken off his waistcoat and bow tie when he came home, but he was warm from the alcohol and started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. 

“You know what you should do?” Aziraphale said while rolling them up. “Go on one of those retreats that are so popular in America.”

“What?” Crowley responded, his voice higher pitched than usual. “No! I’m not going on any retreats. There’s nothing more fake and boring than retreats. The only thing I’m gonna find out is that I shouldn’t be left alone on top of a mountain.”

Crowley was obviously also getting affected by the alcohol, he shrugged off the cardigan and the gestures he made while he spoke were getting bigger and more elaborate. Aziraphale could only watch and nod, looking at his strong hands waving through the air and the expressiveness of his eyes while Crowley went off on a tangent about mountains and something else he missed. He followed the sharp lines of his cheekbones, his slightly crooked nose with a light dusting of freckles and wondered if he had freckles all over his body and the slight shadow of stubble that appeared on his cheeks. His eyes lingered on the bend of his thin lips.

“Aziraphale?”

Crowley’s mouth had turned into a fond smile when he looked up a bit confused. 

“I’m sorry, I got a bit er- distracted I guess.”

Crowley chuckled softly. “I noticed.”

“What were you asked about again?”

“If you could imagine all the shagging going on on top of those mountains.”

“What in the Heavens are you on about?” Aziraphale frowned.

Crowley chuckled again. “Y’know, people trying to find themselves, they’re lonely and hook up. You never done that before? I know your family doesn’t approve of that kind of thing before marriage but I'm curious now.”

Aziraphale had avoided any questions about his personal life like that when they were in France and Crowley actually never asked about it, until now that was. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Aziraphale answered primly. 

Crowley held his hands up in surrender and laughed. “Alright, didn’t mean to press. You don’t have to tell me.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks turned slightly pink when Crowley did his usual sprawl, his legs spread further apart and he seemed to have relaxed a bit more. Crowley had told him a fair bit about his own life and opened up a lot just now. Besides that, Aziraphale had also followed some of his ‘affairs’ in the tabloids and they were friends, right?

“Oh bugger this. I haven’t shagged on top of a mountain, if that’s what you’re after,” he eventually answered and Crowley looked curiously at him, waiting to spill more information on that. “I’m only human! I’ve had er- _relations_ with someone when I was in university. Multiple someone’s. Not on mountains.”

“No one can blame you, angel,” Crowley laughed. “But you’re the only one who can make it sound so proper when referring to sex.” 

“I don’t see any reason to make it dirty,” Aziraphale countered indignantly. 

Crowley snorted. “It can be a bit dirty and messy.”

Aziraphale could feel his ears getting hot, or maybe that was just the alcohol.

At the same time, the dryer beeped in the bathroom, signalling that Crowley’s clothes were dry. Both of them got up at the same time, Crowley seemed to be a bit wonky and unsteady on his feet already. 

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said. “Thanks for the drink and for letting me vent.”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm before he could walk away. “What do you mean? Are you going back to your flat?”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, his lips slightly parted and eyes empty. “Dunno, didn’t think that far,” he admitted. 

“You can… you can stay here. If you’d like,” Aziraphale offered and let go of Crowley’s arm, but could still feel the warmth the man radiated off of him. 

Crowley stepped away. “M’fine, I don’t wanna impose.”

Aziraphale mourned the loss of the warmth for a second. “Oh no, you could never impose. I insist, it’s still raining outside, we’ve been drinking and I would feel _much_ better if you’d stay here for the night.”

Crowley sucked in a breath through his nose and looked around the flat seemingly nervous, before releasing his breath and nodding. “Ok, yeah. Alright. Sure, I’ll stay.”

Aziraphale gave Crowley one of his bright, sincere smiles and walked into the bathroom to turn the dryer off, taking the clothes out and folding them neatly so Crowley could use them again tomorrow. When he came back into the living, Crowley was scrolling through his phone with a pained frown on his face. 

“Is everything alright, dear?” he asked, after he sat back down on the sette next to his friend. 

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine."

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale and put his phone down, before getting up. "What about some music, hm? Do you have a radio or CD player buried underneath all those books somewhere?" 

Aziraphale pointed him in the direction of an old CD player he had with a curious, but slightly worried frown on his face. When he glanced over to the screen of the mobile phone on the coffee table, it was lighting up. He didn’t want to be nosy, so he just watched Crowley as he hummed and turned on the radio on the CD player. 

Soon enough, the silence in the small flat filled itself with the notes of some poppy music he didn’t recognize and Crowley turned to Aziraphale with a grin on his face. Aziraphale would describe the grin as ‘wicked’ and didn’t like it one bit. 

“Let’s dance!”

There it was.

“Oh no! No, I don’t dance,” Aziraphale huffed right away. 

“Everyone dances. You don’t have to be good at it, but you can still dance. Hell, even _I_ dance,” Crowley said as he walked towards Aziraphale with that swagger in his hips, exacerbated by the beat he was walking on. “C’mon angel.”

Aziraphale was sure that he wanted to say no yet again, but looking at the way Crowley’s hips moved and how easy the nickname rolled from his lips made him pause for a moment. Crowley stopped in front of his friend, grabbed his hands and hauled him on his feet. 

“It’s gonna be fun, promise.”

“ _Fun_?” Aziraphale repeated incredulous, but still let Crowley pull him towards the open space next to the settee. 

It was absolutely ridiculous. The whiskey made him give in easily and he just hoped he wasn’t swooning too obviously at the way Crowley was moving. He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t dance, he never danced and just moved around a bit stiffly. 

“See, fun!” 

This made Aziraphale giggle a little elated. He still felt very self conscious, but it wasn’t as bad as he imagined. Suddenly Crowley grabbed his hand and twirled him around, causing Aziraphale to almost trip and both of the men started laughing when Aziraphale was stable on his feet again. Crowley hadn’t let go of his hand. 

The song ended and Aziraphale caught his breath from laughing, smiling at Crowley. The music changed to something slower, less of a pop song and more of a classical ballad. Aziraphale still didn’t recognize it.

“Thank you for the dance,” he said politely, ready to retreat back to the couch. 

Instead of letting go, Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer with the hand he was still holding. They were close, just an inch or so between them, when Crowley finally let his hand go. He placed his hands carefully just above Aziraphale’s hips and it took Aziraphale a few seconds to catch up now that his single brain cell was slightly intoxicated. 

“One more dance.”

“Oh,” was the first thing Aziraphale said. 

Oh how badly Aziraphale wanted to be close to the man. He could smell him from here, the fragrance of rain mixed with bergamot and something spicy that smelled like cardamom. He wanted to embrace him and sway on the soft tones of the music, but instead stepped away.

A pained frown flashed over Crowley’s face and his hands fell uselessly next to his sides. Aziraphale swallowed.

“You can’t do this Anthony, it’s not fair,” he explained himself, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re… you’re obviously sloshed.”

“I know perfectly well what I’m doing, Aziraphale,” Crowley answered, his voice sharp and defensive. “Just tell me if you don’t want it or feel ashamed, but don’t blame the bloody alcohol.”

Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated when Aziraphale didn’t responded. He didn’t know what to say, he was still torn between really wanting to be that close to Crowley and knowing better. 

“You know what, nevermind. It was a mistake, my mistake. I should go.”

“No,” Aziraphale caught himself saying without even thinking about it, feeling braver than ever. “I’m sorry. Can I have this dance?”

Crowley’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and he seemed to hesitate. Aziraphale held out his hand with an encouraging smile on his face. It was just a dance, he assured himself. A little more intimate and less silly than the ‘dancing’ they did before, but still just a dance. 

“Alright,” Crowley answered and accepted Aziraphale’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come yell at me on Tumblr!](https://normified.tumblr.com/)


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